


The Marriage Bet

by JosephineStone



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bottom Draco, Genderbending, Multi, Top Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-02-09
Updated: 2015-07-14
Packaged: 2018-04-06 22:33:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 48,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4239096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JosephineStone/pseuds/JosephineStone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ginny just signed a two year Quidditch contract and is questioning her future with Harry, but Harry is ready to for them to promise their lives to each other. Draco runs into Harry at a jeweller's shop and bets him that he'd be a better spouse for him then Ginny would; Draco believes that you learn to love your spouse through marriage, but Harry thinks you have to be in love first for a marriage to work. Dejected because Ginny just called it quits for the two years she'll be away, Harry agrees.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Unfortunate Decision

‘So,’ Draco said as he entered the jewellery store, ‘the rumours are true.’ 

Harry didn’t look up, but he recognised his voice. He tried not to let Draco Malfoy get to him, even though Harry was already in a rather downcast mood. The rings had got the best of him for the better part of an hour. 

Harry stiffened when he asked, ‘What do you want, Malfoy?’ but kept his focus on the three rings left in front of him. 

‘I heard that you made the unfortunate decision to marry the youngest Weasley.’ Draco came to stand next to Harry looked over the rings himself. 

Harry had narrowed it down to three out of the hundreds around him. Picking one out of three should have been a much simpler task than what he'd already gone through that day. Yet, Harry wasn’t any closer to making a decision than he had been when he’d walked in the door.

The first ring was a simple, solitaire diamond with a plain white gold band. The one sat in the middle was a yellow gold with about fifteen diamonds; the biggest a heart cut one which was surrounded by the smaller ones. The third was black, but with a huge sapphire instead of the traditional diamond. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Draco judging them and wince as his eyes looked over the middle one.

‘What’s so unfortunate about it?’ Harry turned his anger away from the rings and focused on Draco. ‘Marriages are happy occasion for most people.’ Though it wouldn’t surprise Harry to find that Draco was one of the few that found the idea of marriages miserable. He found most things miserable.

‘Come on, Potter,’ Draco began and then smiled at him. It gave Harry an uneasy feeling in his stomach. Bad things tended to happen to Harry when Draco Malfoy smiled at him. ‘Even _I_ can admit that you could do better.’ 

Harry grit his teeth. He should have known the insults would start right away, even if they hadn’t seen each other in over a year by then. ‘I don’t have the same outlook on life as you do,’ Harry pointed out as he told himself he’d grown past losing his temper over other’s petty, jealous opinions. ‘She’s the one who could do better than me.’ Harry smiled to show that Draco’s words had no effect on him.

‘I can see how you would think that.’

‘Now I’m just confused.’ Was that supposed to be a compliment to Ginny, or was he saying that Harry had bad taste?

‘That should be a familiar feeling for you.’ 

Harry glared at him, but Draco just smirked back. 

‘Is it not?’ Draco waited a bit for Harry to respond and continued when he didn’t, ‘It’s all about perspective. You’re looking at it as if you aren’t the famous Harry Potter, but just your-messy-lost-and-confused-self.’ Draco glanced at Harry’s still impossible to tame hair to the three most rings in front of them and the back to Harry’s eyes. ‘Despite her family, she’s talented and beautiful enough even to make Blaise Zabini’s head turn; the vainest man you’ll ever meet. She _could_ have just about anyone she wanted.’

‘And she chose me,’ Harry said it more for his benefit than to counter Draco. ‘Which I’m lucky and _happy_ for.’

‘You see—’ Draco shook his head. ‘That’s my point.’ 

Harry groaned and rubbed his forehead as he tried to remember if Draco always made this little sense. Probably. He had valid reasons for disliking him after all.

‘She didn’t choose you, but Harry Potter.’

‘But, I _am_ Harry Potter.’

‘She chose Harry Potter the _public figure_. The legend she'd heard about and fallen in love with before she’d even met you: Harry Potter, the person. If you were not him, she would want nothing to do with you.’ 

Draco waved his hand dismissively in the air.

‘That’s not true!’ It wasn’t the first time someone had suggested it. Ginny did have a crush on him before she’d ever properly met him, but it was years ago. It didn’t mean anything anymore. ‘We’re in love.’

‘Well then, that’s even worse,’ Draco said as if he were surprised. ‘I thought she was going to be away for a few years?’

‘Only two, and how would that make it _worse_? You’re not making any bloody sense.’

Draco watched Harry’s face, and it made Harry look back down only to be reminded of his problem. He had no idea which of the rings she’d prefer. Even with how different they were from each other, he couldn’t tell if any of them would be perfect for her. Did she love or hate gold? Would she prefer something traditional or out of the ordinary? Though it was the one thing Draco hadn’t thrown in his face yet, Harry knew anyone who saw him then would know how little he knew about his girlfriend. 

‘What if she finds someone else?’

‘She won’t.’ Harry wanted to add _because she wouldn’t be looking because she has me_ , but he knew that wasn’t as true as it used to be.

‘What if you do?’

‘I won’t.’ Harry was more sure of that. He knew he wouldn’t be looking for anyone else, and he was too busy in training to have time to meet people outside of work. 

‘Because you’re in love with her?’ Draco asked, rolling his eyes. ‘People cheat on people that they “love” every day. Even when they are married and supposedly very happy together.’

‘Then they don’t love each other,’ Harry said. ‘And yes, of course, I love her.’

‘And is it incomprehensible to love two people at the same time?’

Harry could tell that Draco was setting him a trap, but he continued regardless. ‘If you’re really in love with someone, then yes.’

‘I love both my mother and my father, and I know that I’ll love my partner someday when I get married. How is that possible?’

‘That’s not the same.’ Harry looked away from the rings. He knew he was right, but he could not explain it as well. ‘You know what I mean.’

‘No, I’m afraid not. What do you mean?’ 

And of course, Draco was going to make him explain it. ‘There are different kinds of love. You love your parents in a different way than you love your spouse.’

‘Yes.’ Draco gestured for him to continue.

‘So, yes, you can love more than one person, but you will only love one person the way you love your spouse.’ Harry was satisfied with his answer. He felt that he made his point, but Harry forgot that he was dealing with Draco. And Draco would never agree with him on anything. 

‘You’re such a fool. Real love grows. You don’t love her; you don’t even know her. What you’re feeling now is lust that will fade once you have to deal with the real her. Which she probably won’t show you until after you’re married. You can’t even vaguely guess the type of ring she’d prefer. A ring you’re going to ask her to wear every single day for the rest of her life.’

How could he honestly have that conversation with Draco Malfoy? He was the most heartless person that Harry had ever met in his life.

‘What would you know about love? You’ve never experienced it. You have never even been in a relationship.’

Draco inhaled and exhaled slowly while Harry looked around the shop. All the rings looked ugly to him then. The shopkeeper stood idly by in the back and watched them curiously. Draco kept his voice down when he continued, ‘Look, I’m not trying to fight with you.’

Harry looked at him disbelievingly. 

‘I’m trying to help you.’

‘Oh, really?’

‘Yes,’ Draco said, and then after a beat. ‘I've never really thanked you for saving my life.’ 

Harry narrowed his eye suspiciously.

‘And I thought you could use some advice before you ruined yours.’

‘My life’s fine, but thank you for your concern.’ Harry still didn’t trust where the conversation was going, but added, ‘And you’re welcome.’

‘Look, whether you want to be or not, you are and always will be Harry Potter: public figure.’

Harry nodded; he knew that he could never run from it. 

‘Because of this, people will always try to take advantage of you, even if they do not realise it at the time.’

Harry was beginning to learn that too, but still he just shook his head. ‘Ginny’s not like that.’ Draco saw everyone in a negative light. 

‘My point is that you would benefit more from a political marriage than from one based on romance. You need someone that can keep your private life private and help you capitalise on your fame instead of run from it.’

‘So you’re suggesting I should marry someone like . . . like . . . _you_ then? And not the woman I love?’ Harry just wanted the conversation to end and the attack on his personal life to be over. He couldn’t explain why he was right. Harry just knew it. He could show it to everyone that he loved Ginny, and he could prove Draco wrong. Just not with words, he had never been good with words.

‘Whoever you choose, you’d learn to love each other. It takes work, compromise, and commitment. Why not with me?’

Harry was taken aback. Was Draco suggesting that they were a better match? They couldn’t stand each other. Harry would end up killing him, but Draco just continued as if it was a great idea.

‘It’s common throughout history for two countries to marry royalty as part of their peace treaties after wars.’ 

He and Draco were very different from two strangers who were forced into a situation like that together, though. They had a long and hateful history behind them.

‘You honestly believe that we could fall in love with each other?’

‘Yes,’ Draco answered quickly without thought. ‘At the very least, I believe it’d be a better match than you marrying her.’

‘You’re wrong.’ It was all he could say. Draco was wrong. He had to be.

‘Prove it.’ Draco gave him a challenging glare, which encouraged Harry to do the same. Nothing had changed about the git; only his bone structure showed that time had gone by. When Draco made that face, he looked sixteen again in an instant. They were nineteen then and though Draco had graduated on time, Harry had returned for another year and graduated with Ginny. So, Harry hadn’t seen Draco since the final battle almost two years prior.

‘How?’ Other than marrying Ginny and staying together forever, something that neither of them had any control over. Especially, Harry. Ginny already made it clear she wasn’t ready for marriage and didn’t know when she would be. The only other option was to marry Draco. 

‘You want me to marry _you_ , so that it can all fall apart?’ Harry asked. 

‘What else are you going to do while she’s away for two years?’

‘I’ll be working.’ Harry tilted his head, curiously watching Draco’s slightly smirking face. Draco was winning, and they both knew it. ‘Just as she’s going to.’

‘Do you plan on seeing each other a lot? Or are you just getting engaged so everyone would know that you’re both off limits?’ Draco laughed as he said that, and Harry’s curiosity was replaced, once again, with anger.

‘What? No!’ He was looking at rings because of his own wishful thinking. They weren’t getting engaged; they weren’t even officially together anymore.

Draco was impossible. Every few minutes Harry lost his temper with him. He hadn’t lost his temper in years before then, and Harry didn’t know why he felt the need to be honest with him. It was none of Draco’s business. 

‘Actually,’ Harry said, ‘What I was going to do was buy the ring now . . . but I was going to give it to her before she left, so that when she came back she would know that I’ll be here waiting for her.’ Harry paused and looked around for the shopkeeper, who was still at the back of the shop, and then finished mumbling, ‘Technically, we are not even going to be together while she’s away.’

Saying all of that aloud made it sound a bit more pathetic than it had in his head. 

He was second guessing even letting Ginny know he had been thinking of it then. He certainly was not going to go through with it. How was it that Draco still had that effect on him? He had defeated the most powerful dark wizard since Grindelwald, and a fifteen-minute conversation with Draco made him feel like a small child that had never heard of a broomstick before.

‘And you expect her to be faithful?’ Draco looked like he was trying to hold back a laugh, but had failed.

‘No, of course not, but if you love something. When you let it go, it returns to you. That’s how you know it’s meant to be.’

‘Where did you hear that rubbish?’

Harry was silently asking himself the same question along with “why did I just say that?” Draco didn't need anything else to make fun of him about, and he kept spouting out arguments like a lovesick thirteen-year-old. He closed his eyes and wished he was anywhere except next to Draco Malfoy defending his romanticism.

‘It’s just a saying; one that I happen to believe in.’

‘So you’re saying that we have two years?’ 

Harry took one step back away from Draco as he contemplated what he meant. Was Draco suggesting that they should try it? Not just in theory, but actually do it?

‘W-what?’

‘We have two years to prove each other wrong,’ Draco said, slowly to make sure that Harry understood him. ‘Two years for me to make you fall in love with me; two years for you to prove to me that you never will.’

‘Uhm … are you suggesting that we should get married?’ Harry hoped that saying it would make him change his mind and let it go, but Draco just smiled, stepped toward Harry, and said, ‘Yes, Potter. Do try to keep up.’

They’d kill each other. 

Harry studied Draco’s face. He looked serious. Draco had never been the best at hiding his feelings, at least not his anger, so Harry concluded that must be what he was suggesting they do. The silence stretched while Harry considered it. He would be able to prove Draco wrong. He could _show_ him that it would never work between them. Even with all the rules for marriage that Draco had been taught made them work, Harry and Draco hated each other. No amount of manners or time spent together would change that. 

After all, he had lived with Ron and had spent most of his waking hours with Hermione, since they were eleven, and he wasn’t in love with them. He loved them, yes, but as a family. He was also straight, so the idea was ridiculous in itself. 

What harm could it really do? 

All he would be doing for the next two years was Auror training. Ginny had suggested that they should take a break while she went away, just as they had done when _he_ was away in his seventh year of school. They decided they would wait for each other once again. It would prove that they belonged together: there was no way he was going to fall in love with Draco. He could grow to care about him, maybe, but he would never feel about Draco the way he felt about Ginny.

He must have been thinking for too long about it because just as he decided it might not be such a bad idea, Draco faltered.

‘You can just say “no”,’ Draco said, stepping away from the case, away from Harry. ‘It’s okay; I didn’t expect you to be up for it.’ 

Draco was backing out? 

Like always, Harry found he could not resist a challenge when Draco presented one. No, they were going to get married, and Harry was going to prove him wrong.

‘Why not? Let’s do it, let’s get married for two years.’ He took a few steps down towards the men’s rings as Draco slowly followed him. ‘Then when we’re still not in love with each other, we can get a divorce.’

‘And if we _are_ in love with each other?’ Draco’s eyes fell to the case, but Harry couldn’t tell which ring he was looking at.

‘Well, then—we’ll already be married. Won’t we?’

Draco gave a slight smirk. ‘So then, we could tell all of your adoring fans?’

‘Oh,’ Harry said surprised—not that Draco thought about Harry’s fans, but also that he hadn’t planned on going public with it as soon as possible. The Malfoy name wasn’t exactly _good_ anymore. It was rumoured that his mother had become a recluse. Having Harry as a spouse would do a lot to help change that. ‘You’re not going to use this to your advantage for the next two years? Wouldn’t it be good for . . .' Harry didn’t feel comfortable finishing that thought with the way Draco was frowning at him.

‘No, it would _not_ be good for my family if we get a divorce after only two years. And I’m sure you would rather no one knew about it, other than family and, in your case, close friends.’

‘Right.’ Harry wouldn’t appreciate the attention they’d get for it. He gestured down to the case. ‘So, which ring do you like?’

Draco studied Harry for a moment before answering. ‘If we do this, we have to do it by the rules.’

‘And what would those be?’ Harry asked sensing a catch.

‘You can’t treat this like we’re just friends with benefits,’ Draco said. I’m not going to be your roommate. We need to make every decision together. You can’t walk out after a fight or run away when you don’t get your way.’

‘So … I have to ask for your permission before I go to see my friends?’

‘I don’t mean _permission_ , but you should let me know where you’re going or more likely take me with you. Just do with me what you would do with Ginny. If you would’ve taken her somewhere, then you have to take me. If you would have told her something or asked her opinion . . . ’ 

‘What if you don’t want to go?’ Harry couldn’t see Draco wanting to spend evenings with Ron and Hermione like how he and Ginny used to all the time. It was easy with Ginny because they had all the same friends. If he wanted to see Ron and Hermione, but she wanted to see Neville and Luna then they just all went out together.

‘Then we’ll have to find a compromise.’ Draco rolled his eyes at Harry. Obviously, they’d have to find compromises. ‘As we will do with a lot of things, like where we’re going to live. All I’m saying is that you can’t treat this like you could leave tomorrow because if this were a real arranged marriage you couldn’t. You leave, then you lose.’

‘Fine.’ Harry wasn’t a child. He knew marriage was a commitment, even if their marriage would be a fake marriage. It would be great practice for when he married Ginny. After two years of living with Draco, getting back with Ginny would be bliss.

Draco smiled as they both stared down at the case of rings. He pointed to a platinum ring that had a snake etched around half of it with a jade in the middle for the eye. Harry rolled his eyes. How perfectly Draco. Harry could have put up a fight, but he happened to like it as well. He'd looked at it before when debating on matching rings for himself and Ginny, but of course, the ring that went with it also had a snake on the band. Not something she would likely have wanted. 

Being a Parselmouth, he had always liked snakes, especially when he was younger. Seeing a snake always reminded him of Dudley and his friends running from the snake at the Zoo. Strangely enough, they made him feel happy and safe. They were the first friends he had. He waved the attendant over, instead of giving Draco an actual response.

‘I’d like two of these, please.’

The attendant, who had been pretending he wasn't listening in on their conversation, nodded and asked, ‘Size?’ 

Harry answered first, and then Draco’s sized turned out to be only one size smaller than Harry’s. He could feel Draco’s stare as he worked out the details with the shopkeeper. They’d be ready in six weeks. With the rings settled, Harry made his way out of the shop. He tried to exhale his nervousness. Had he just finished asking Ginny to marry him, Harry could imagine himself full of energy ready to plan the whole thing. But instead, it felt as though he were looking at a mountain. 

He had to _tell_ everyone. That was more frightening than the rest of it to Harry right then.

‘So,’ Draco said as he came to stand beside him. ‘We’re really getting married?’

‘Yeah, I guess we are.’

‘How soon would you like the wedding to be?’ 

Harry cringed; were they going to have a real wedding? All for a bet? ‘I don’t know,’ Harry said not sure how to disagree with that part right away. How would they hide a wedding from the press? What was the point of a celebration, if they were going to be hiding the union from the world anyway?

‘I’ll have to speak with my mother—and you with your friends—to make sure they know _not_ to tell anyone about it, but they all also need to know. It wouldn’t be like a real marriage if we didn’t have to deal with the people in our lives being a part of it. We can’t hide it from them.’

‘What should I tell them?’ Harry said more to himself than Draco, but Draco answered.

‘The truth: that we made a bet, and that it requires us to marry for two years. We can’t spend the traditional year to plan it, so how about two months? That way we can make sure to have the rings.’

Two months? Could they really get it all done that quickly? 

‘You think we can plan it that fast?’ Harry asked

‘Potter.’ Draco shook his head at him. ‘We are very rich. Do not underestimate what we can accomplish.’

Harry grit his teeth.

‘How about we meet for lunch on Monday to discuss the details of our arrangement?’ 

‘Fine.’ Harry nodded. ‘Where?’

‘Meet me at the tea-shop on that corner.’ Draco gestured toward _The Bat's Wing_. ‘One o’clock.’


	2. A Mutual Decision

‘You are doing _what_!’

Harry braced himself in case she started throwing hexes. They were in her bedroom at the Burrow, where she was still going through her things: packing some, getting rid of a lot, and finding places for the sentimental to wait for her return.

‘Ginny,’ he said, trying to calm her down. ‘It’ll only be for two years. You’ll be gone for it all anyway, and it’s just a bet.’ As well as, _they weren’t together anymore_ per her request. 

She was still glaring at him, but she hadn’t moved for her wand. He walked over to her and tried to embrace her, but she twisted away from him and crossed her arms over her chest.

‘You’re _getting married_ to someone else, but it’s _okay_ because it’s _just a bet_?’ She paused, searching his eyes. ‘Are you insane?’ Then she turned her back on him as she returned to her packing.

‘It’s Malfoy.’ Harry dropped down on her bed in exasperation. ‘I’m not going to fall in love with him. I’m not even gay.’

He’d already gone through this same conversation with Ron and Hermione. They weren’t so sure about Harry’s sexuality, as it turned out. He hoped he didn’t get the same questions from Ginny. None of his answers had appeased his friends.

‘That’s not the point.’ Ginny began to pace in front of him. ‘Two days ago, you were ready to propose to me, and now you’re going to marry someone else?’

‘Two days ago, you broke up with me,’ Harry said, suddenly angry. ‘So that we both could be free to do whatever we wanted for the next two years—and how did you know I was ready to propose?’ He had not told anyone about it, not even Ron and Hermione.

Ginny rolled her eyes at him. ‘Everyone saw you shopping for engagement rings, Harry; it wasn’t exactly a secret.’ Uncrossing her arms, she threw her hands in the air. They stared at each other mutely for a minute, before Harry got up and stood before her.

‘What would you have said, if I would have asked you?’

‘What does it matter?’ Ginny gritted out.

‘It matters to me,’ Harry said. He knew she’d be angry with his question. She already made her reason for their break up clear, and he knew her answer before she said it.

‘I would have said no.’ She took a deep breath and continued more softly, ‘We talked about this. Long-distance relationships do not work, Harry. I don’t want you to be tied down to me while I am away, and then have us break up from the stress of it.’ She came to him and let him wrap his arms around her.

No, she didn’t want to be tied to him; he had no problem with the reverse. He could handle being alone for a couple of years as long as he knew she was coming back. She wanted their break up to be peaceful like it was the last time.

‘Then why are you so upset about this?’ He searched her face for any trace of the emotions he felt as she answered.

‘Because you’re getting married, and I haven’t even left yet! It’s quite a bit different from having a few flings to get over the loneliness.’

That was what had really bothered him for the past couple of days. He had no problems with being celibate for two years while she was away. Especially since they hadn't had sex with each other yet. Ron and Hermione said it was more difficult to live without after you've had it. Which just made Harry question who Ginny _had_ slept with.

Also, it wasn’t like they wouldn’t see each other for the entire time. He agreed that maybe, regular visits would be a little difficult, but he would have been satisfied with anything she could give him as long as in the end they were together again. Ginny didn’t see how much easier it was to visit someone with magic. Living with each other might have been impossible with international travel, but not visiting each other monthly. 

Their problem was that she wanted more than that, but she didn’t want to cheat on him, either.

‘It’s just a bet,’ Harry said, again. ‘We’ll get a divorce in two years. This means nothing to me, and no one’s even going to know about it.’

‘Like Malfoy isn’t going to use this against you. It’ll be all over the papers in the morning.’

‘He said that he didn’t want anyone to know about it.’ Harry thought about it and realised: ‘Though, even if Malfoy doesn’t tell anyone, there is still the owner of the jewellery store.’ He paused as she eyed him critically. ‘Ginny, I can’t hide from the world or let what they think of me dictate everything I do. I can’t stop them from printing stories about me, and most of what they print isn’t true.’

‘How can you trust him?’

‘I don’t.’

Harry had never been able to keep anything about himself out of the papers and had long ago given up caring about it. It’d probably be in the next morning’s papers. It would say that he and Draco had been together all along, or had fallen in love over lunch or something similar. He shook his head at the thought of what he’d just gotten himself into. Then he thought of what the headlines would read once he left Draco for Ginny again, which reminded him of why he had said yes to begin with. 

‘I’m doing this to prove that all his theories about you, your family, and us, are wrong.’

‘His theories?’

‘How a marriage based on love won’t ever work. How I should marry for political reasons, because this world will just tear us apart. That you learn to love your spouse, and _that_ love is a lot stronger than anything we feel because all we see is skin deep.’

‘That’s ridiculous. Their marriages last because they’re not allowed to get a divorce, not because they love each other more. Look at my parents—they love each other and nothing, not money, not possessions, can compare to that. They are happy just with each other.’

Harry exhaled in relief. He couldn’t expect her to be enthusiastic about it, but at least she was talking calmly to him again. She also did not tell him it was over, and not just while she was away, which after she had started yelling had become his real fear. Then he would have backed out of the bet, and let Draco win. Nothing, especially a stupid bet with Draco, was worth losing Ginny for.

‘I know, Ginny. That’s what I am going to prove to him, and I’m not gay. There’s no way I could ever love him the way I love you, no matter what he does.’ He squeezed her, and she wrapped her arms around him in response, then he kissed her head. He was still a little too wary to kiss her on the mouth; he wasn’t sure she would welcome it. He would let her make that move first, but she didn’t. 

Instead, she pulled back and sat on her bed.

‘Well, I’m still not happy about it. I have packing to do, so I guess I’ll see you downstairs.’

‘Okay,’ Harry said and nodded sadly. ‘I’ll leave you to it then.’

#

Harry walked downstairs and sat down on the sofa next to Hermione. Ron sat in a chair across from them. Ron and Hermione had stayed for moral support. Harry took a deep breath and stared at the ceiling.

‘So,’ Hermione said, ‘how did it go?’

‘You mean you didn’t hear the screaming?’ He turned his head to look at her.

She smiled at that, and he was sure that Ron had rolled his eyes. It was obvious that they’d spent the entire time he was upstairs talking about him; they only sat across from each other, and not together, when they had serious discussions.

‘Yes, but it stopped.’ Hermione paused. ‘Eventually.’

‘She’s not happy about it.’

‘I still can’t believe you agreed to this,’ Ron said. ‘How could you let Malfoy talk you into it?’

Apparently, Ron had to let it sink in before he could get angry about it. He was glaring at Harry then.

‘It isn’t that surprising, Ron. Malfoy has always known how to get what he wanted out of Harry.’

Harry frowned at that. ‘He has?’ 

Hermione continued, ‘I’m more worried about _why_ Malfoy’s chosen to do this.’

‘Well,’ Ron said looking at Harry, ‘why did he say he wanted to do it?’ 

Thank Merlin for Hermione. Ron forgot all about his anger towards Harry with just the idea that Draco was up to something.

‘He didn’t,’ said Harry. ‘It’s just to prove a point. Does he need a reason to prove me wrong—or embarrass me?’

‘Well, Harry,’ Hermione said. ‘What do you get if you win the bet? What happens after the two years?’

He hated the judgmental look on her face and did not want to answer that question. They hadn’t talked out all the particulars, and he didn’t need her pointing out all the problems he’d just walked into. Of course, he could walk away whenever he wanted. He could always walk away.

‘Um . . . we get a divorce. He admits that he’s wrong, and it does take love to make a marriage work.’ And Draco would admit that Harry and Ginny really do love each other and are perfect for each other. Harry will get back together with Ginny without being alone waiting for her for two years.

Hermione watched him closely; he didn't like the accusing look she was giving him. He started to feel rather guilty about what he was about to put them all through. 

‘That . . .’ Harry finished, ‘You can’t just fall in love with whoever you’re arranged with.’

‘Okay.’ Hermione nodded, and then thinking aloud said, ‘So if he wins then you admit that he’s right?’ 

Harry nodded. 

‘And that _you love him_?’ 

He nodded, again. 

‘And then what? You—what? Stay married?’

‘I don’t know. I didn’t ask. It doesn’t matter because I’m not going to fall in love with him.’

‘So if he wins,’ Hermione continued, ‘he gets to break your heart?’

‘He isn’t going to win.’

Ron and Hermione looked at each other, ignoring Harry’s protest. 

Ron said, ‘Sounds like a pretty good revenge to me.’

‘Yes, to me, as well.’ She looked thoughtful for a moment. ‘Although, for Draco to be _technically_ right, he would have to be in love with Harry as well. Really, though, what would Draco care if he lost on a technicality? He’s been losing to Harry for years. It really would be the perfect revenge to break his heart.’

‘He isn’t going to win!’ Harry said, again. ‘I’d have to be an idiot to fall in love with him.’ 

They both give him half-hearted smiles. 

‘It’ll be fine,’ Harry repeated more to himself than to reassure his friends.

#

‘Mother,’ Draco called as he came into the parlour. ‘I’m getting married in six weeks, and I need your help to plan the wedding.’ He sat in the chair opposite to his mother and began to pour himself a cup of tea. He could feel her eyes on him.

‘Draco, that’s normally the responsibility of the bride’s parents.’ 

Of course, the news would come as a surprise to her. Draco hadn’t dated anyone in ages. 

‘I know, Mother.’ Draco smirked. ‘However, in this situation, there’ll be no bride and therefore, no bride’s parents.’ 

That didn’t surprise her, but she played along. ‘How’s that possible?’

‘I’m marrying Harry Potter.’

The corner of Narcissa's mouth twitched, fighting a smile. His mother was not slow by any means, and he knew she had realised a long time ago that he was not interested in the opposite sex. 

‘Again, how’s that possible?’

‘That’s of no importance. What is important is that we have a wedding to plan. One that must be kept secret.’ 

It wasn’t that Draco didn’t trust his mother; more that he didn’t want to hear a lecture from her. Slytherin that she was, it would look only like an invitation to get himself hurt by her, instead of a sneaky way of getting what he wanted. He never seemed to come out on top when it came to Potter. 

‘So, only family then?’ 

‘Well, and close friends, considering that he has no family.’

‘And of _your_ close friends?’

‘Only Blaise and Pansy need to know about it.’

‘What about him? Who does he consider his close friends?’

‘I haven’t discussed it with him yet,’ Draco said, although he could answer the question well enough without it. ‘We are meeting on Monday to start picking out things. I need you to tell me where to go. What to do.’ He’d never taken part in any festivity planning before. His mother had always been in charge of that sort of thing. He went where he’d been told to go and got what he’d been told to get. 

‘We want everything to be traditional.’

‘Oh?’ She paused a beat. ‘I’ll make appointments for you—do you have his schedule?’ 

He shook his head. 

‘Make sure you get it. You’ll both need to be at all the appointments together. _Traditionally_ , you two wouldn’t have met, but since you have a _history_ you should use this time to get to know each other.’ She half-laughed. ‘In a better light, at least.’

Draco smiled. ‘I’ll let him know.’ He finally started to relax and sipped his tea, and she brought her teacup to her lap.

‘Is this a secret at his request?’

‘It was a mutual decision.’ At her confused expression he added, ‘It might only last a few years.’

‘That wouldn’t look good for you.’

‘As I said: a mutual decision. I need to know that it’s permanent before I allow it to be public knowledge.’

‘And if someone leaks it?’

‘I have already been to the _Prophet_ , and Rita knows they aren’t allowed to print a word of it.’ 

‘What about the other magazines and newspapers?’

‘No one believes the other papers and magazines unless there is an actual interview.’

‘What about anything else about him?’

‘Starting next week, everything has to be run by me first.’

‘ _Next_ week?’

‘I need to have a conversation with him first.’ He was going to talk Harry into giving an interview and try to pull him out of his shell when it came to the press. If they continued to write false stories about him, it would never work. After his father was sent to Azkaban, the Malfoy name had been in the papers quite often, and he had learned to deal with them. When he graduated from Hogwarts, Draco had to take his father’s place, and he was not going to let the media walk all over his family name again. Making bargains with people like Rita Skeeter kept his name out of the papers and got her promoted with the information he shared anonymously.

‘I do hope you know what you’re doing.’ 

‘I know what I’m doing,’ he said as he got up and walked over to her. He kissed her cheek. ‘Thank you.’

‘You’re welcome.’ She smiled at him as she patted his arm. ‘It’s what I do.’

Be there for him; yes, it’s what she did.

#

Like Harry and Draco had planned, they met for lunch on Monday. They exchanged information so that Mrs Malfoy could make the appropriate appointments, and so that Harry could get a hold of Draco if he needed to. Not that Harry thought he would need to get a hold of him.

He was mostly worried about what would happen when their relationship went public. 

Anyone that saw them shopping together would report it, Harry was sure of it. Even if they both had agreed to keep it quiet, the fact that people saw them together was bound to cause a stir.

They had rather normal workweeks: Monday through Friday. Harry had training from nine to five, and Draco started his days at six. It left them both free for the weekends, which were, of course, the busiest times to shop. Which meant the more people who would see them. 

‘Mother needs to know who we would like for attendants and who you would like to be there. That has to be done this week.’ Draco started abruptly after the waitress had left. He was not taking his time at that, which Harry was thankful for. He was not quite ready to make small talk with Draco, yet.

‘None of my friends are happy about this,’ Harry said nervously, ‘but I am sure that Ron and Hermione would be a part of it, at least, for me.’

‘I want Pansy to be the maid of honour. She’s my best friend.’

Harry thought about it, though he did not intend to object, and he nodded his okay. That was not his real wedding, so he really did not care.

‘Um, then Ron could be the best man. He’s my best friend.’

‘I assumed you wanted that.’ Draco looked thoughtful for a moment. ‘If he’s willing to do it, that is.’

‘He’ll be willing.’ Harry sincerely hoped Ron would. He was not sure he would be able to make it through the day without Ron. He also did not want to hear Draco’s “I told you so”, nor a lecture on how Ron was not a proper friend.

‘Alright then, Hermione and Blaise?’ Harry nodded his approval; that was not going as bad as he thought it would be. They were not fighting, even if he was irritated and slightly on edge. ‘More importantly, we need to discuss who will be there. Anyone that might need to know about it has to be there. So, people you come in contact with often enough that they would figure it out, and people that come by your house to visit you.’

‘Okay, well I cannot keep any secrets from the Weasleys, and since I have already told Ginny and Ron, the rest should know by tomorrow.’ That was something Harry liked about their family. He liked sharing his life with people and being free to be himself around them. He liked having them knowing everything about him and living with no secrets. He was just worried about what they were going to say about that.

‘Make sure they know to keep it quiet.’

‘They know Malfoy. None of them would ever go to the papers with anything they know about me.’

Finally, the food arrived just in time to cut off Harry before he started to rant.

Draco pulled out a small piece of parchment and a quill and started writing down the names.

‘Anyone else?’

‘I’m close to my friends, Malfoy. I don’t keep secrets from them.’

Draco let out an exasperated sigh, obviously trying to contain himself. ‘I don’t care who you want to tell, just as long as they know to keep it to themselves. Everyone needs to know who knows and who doesn’t. If they’re at the wedding, then they are allowed to know, and if they aren’t then they can’t.’ 

‘Okay, I understand that I’m not a child,’ Harry said a little too loud, as he grabbed his sandwich and started to eat to keep himself quiet. He had already gained the attention of a few tables in the vicinity. ‘Neville and Luna, your aunt and her grandson Teddy. I’m not sure how much of a risk a two-year-old is, being that he can barely talk.’

‘Is that it?’ Draco sighed. ‘You haven’t kept in touch with the entire Gryffindor house?’

‘No, I haven’t.’ Harry rolled his eyes. He was only really attached to the Weasleys. Their family just happened to be a big one. It was not like he wanted everyone he knew to know everything about him. ‘These are all I can think of that need to know,’ then as an afterthought, ‘Fleur, Bill’s wife.’

‘She is considered a Weasley…’ Draco drawled. ‘I already wrote her down. Are any of the others married?’

‘No,’ Harry replied calm once again. ‘Is there anything else we need to decide?’

‘No, at least not today.’ Draco rolled up the parchment and tucked it into his robe before he started to eat his food. ‘My mother will take care of everything else.’


	3. Not So Bad

The first appointment Mrs Malfoy made for them, was to find suits to wear. Harry was not looking forward to it, at all. He had heard that it took a whole year to plan a wedding and did not know if it was possible to get it done in six weeks. Having Malfoy there to laugh at him through the entire experience would make it that much worse, and he hated shopping for clothes. Plus, the appointment was for eight in the morning on his day off.

Harry met Draco outside the store on Saturday, and then they walked in together. Harry looked around the shop at all the different suits, becoming more overwhelmed by the second, but Draco was calm.

‘Just look around a minute while I go to get someone to help us,’ Draco whispered in his ear. All he could do was nod, though, he did step farther in the store and started to look at some of the suits on display. Draco could tell he was nervous and went to the sales person before she had a chance to approach them. The blond smiled and gestured at her to follow him back up to the counter where the rest of the employees kept themselves busy.

‘Hello ladies.’ Draco smiled as he approached them. It was new to him: smiling at people instead of sneering at them, but his family lost a lot of respect after the war. It was up to him to earn that respect back, and he had learnt that demanding it did not work the way his father had taught him. He learnt that a lot of things did not work the way his father had taught him.

‘Good morning, Mr Malfoy. I believe you have an appointment. What are you looking for today?’ The manager spoke up first. She was just as curious as the rest of the girls about what they were doing there together. Even though the war was long over, they had never associated with each other before, and Harry did not go out in public very often. There were even rumours that he had died, until the recent ring shopping sightings.

‘I have a few instructions for you, and it’s very important that you strictly follow them.’ He paused as they acknowledged that. ‘One: no one, and I mean no one, neither your significant others nor your children, not even your mothers are allowed to know that we were here today.’ He knew better than anyone how quickly gossip got around. It was where he got his most reliable information because behind every lie was a grain of truth. He was rather talented at finding out what the truth was and using it to his advantage. ‘Not any other day that we choose to return. In fact, that will be the factor in if we ever do return.’ The manager nodded and glared at the girls until they did as well.

‘Yes, your mother made that clear.’ Draco smiled at the mention of his mother. It took over a year for him to regain the respect he used to receive as a child. That was the first time anyone mentioned his mother in a pleasant way. People had grown accustomed to just not to mention them at all. It was still too soon for his family to be forgiven. He knew that his presence caused people fear, just by how often their eyes would drift down to his covered arm. It was as if they could see through the fabric. There were very few people that knew the mark was there, and he had no intentions to let that number rise.

‘Two, he’s new to this. Don’t ask questions that he doesn’t know how to answer. He doesn’t know his measurements or the names you use for your colours and fabrics. Direct the questions at him, but I will answer most of them. When you ask him if he likes one cut over the other, show it to him. He won’t know what you are talking about.’

‘He hates to shop. I’m aiming to change that,’ Draco said sweetly. ‘He’s going to feel uncomfortable at first, and I don't want anything to make it worse. So, when he asks you to call him “Harry”, do it, do not question it, and call me “Draco”.’ 

‘Forget who he is. That’s the reason he never comes out. So, treat him like you treat each other and not the way that you would normally treat me.’ Once he was sure that they understood what he was saying, he switched to the question the manager had originally asked. ‘We’re looking for two suits for us that coordinate with each other together. And another one for him to wear to a dinner party.’

‘Yes, sir, Mr Malfoy,’ the manager said politely. He raised his eyebrow, and she stuttered, ‘Sorry, of course, Draco.’

‘Good. Also,’ Draco said while staring at one particular girl, ‘if any of you can’t keep themselves from staring, blushing or giggling, then you should stay in the back until we leave.’ 

The girl went silent and nodded her head quickly before he walked with another sales associate towards Harry. The girl held out her hand, and Harry accepted and shook it. She gave him a pained smiled but continued naturally with her introduction.

‘Hello, Mr Potter. My name is Victoria. What is the occasion that you are shopping for today?’

‘Please, call me Harry,’ he said, but then stumbled over the second question. ‘Uhhh, I, um.’

‘He needs a suit to wear to a dinner party,’ Draco said. ‘And we’re both looking for the suits that I previously mentioned .’

‘How about we start by measuring you both. Follow me gentlemen.’ 

Draco knew his measurements by heart, and, even if he hadn’t, _they_ knew them. But, if only Harry got measured then it would be just them hovering around him. The girl was smart. That way she could divide her attention between both of them, and Harry would not feel so pressured.

She took them to the dressing rooms to measure them, and it was done within minutes. The next part would take a while. Though she knew the styles that Draco liked and even some of his favourite colours, Harry didn’t know what he liked, so asking him was futile. She could ask if he liked green or blue, but that would mean nothing in apparel. Some people looked the best in colours that they did not necessarily like and even if he did like and look good in blue there were twelve shades this season. Without seeing them all on him, they wouldn’t know which blue would be the best.

In the end, it took three hours to go through the suits and to pick out a few different ones. After the first hour, she had figured out what Harry liked. They spent the rest of the time putting together a few things for him to purchase that day. Harry did end up relaxing and even became very opinionated about it by the end of the visit. Draco could tell that he was beginning to have a good time.

#

When Harry checked the time as they were paying, he was surprised at how late it was. He had surprised himself a few times that day. He had not planned on buying anything just for himself, but somehow Draco talked him into it. They didn’t fight about it too much; since he was going to be married to Draco, he had a feeling that he was going to need nicer clothing more often.

Harry had always hated dressing up before because the clothes were uncomfortable and itchy. It was almost impossible to breathe in them, and he had voiced those concerns before they even started. 

Draco had smirked at him. ‘That’s because you’ve never been properly fitted.’

Harry didn’t have any of his previous problems with the clothes Victoria brought him. There were a couple of times that, before she even handed the garment to Harry, Draco shook his head and listed one of the reasons Harry had mentioned, though.

‘So, that was not _so_ horrible, was it?’ Draco asked once they made their way outside and were absentmindedly walking down the path.

‘Actually, it was a little fun,’ Harry admitted. ‘Though, I’m tired.’ He had never thought that shopping could be so exhausting; then again, he never spent three hours in one store.

‘Understandable.' Draco nodded. ‘Are you ready for next Saturday?’

‘What’s next Saturday?’ Harry asked wearily and stopped, giving Draco a questioning look.

‘It’s the fun part.’ Draco smirked at Harry’s unease. ‘My mother is having a dinner party to celebrate our engagement.’

‘Well, if it's the fun part, then I guess I should be looking forward to it,’ Harry said sarcastically, not trying to hide his ill mood at the news. ‘When were you planning to tell me?’

‘I just did. These next few weeks will go fast. She has already sent out the invitations, and everyone that is invited to the wedding will be at the dinner party. They should have gotten them yesterday morning.’ 

They walked in silence for a while. It had only been a week, and everyone was already invited. Harry laughed at the idea of “celebrating” their engagement. What was there really to celebrate? Then again, the more he thought about it, she probably didn’t have much to celebrate in the last few years. He didn’t know much about Mrs Malfoy, but she helped him in the final battle against Voldemort. He hoped she was having fun planning the wedding. It seemed like the type of thing she would enjoy.

‘I’m not looking forward to tomorrow morning,’ Harry said. 

Draco gave him a confused look. 

‘I’m not excited to read what the _Prophet_ is going to say about this.’ He gestured back towards the store they had walked out of.

‘Harry, you’ll see that there are many benefits you will attain being with me.’ Draco smiled, since he knew that there would be no such story. He was glad that Harry was the one to bring it up. He had tried to figure out how to broach the subject all day; he still had to convince Harry to do an interview.

‘Oh, really?’ Harry asked sceptically because he had not thought of one benefit he could gain from the situation. Everything about it had turned out bad for Harry, so far. The shopping had been nice, but he did not think that learning to enjoy spending money frivolously was a benefit.

‘One of them is that I can teach you how to deal with reporters.’

‘How’s that?’ 

They continued to walk down the street not heading anywhere in particular. Harry was in no hurry to part with Draco’s company just yet. He had the options of either going home to be alone all day or going to the Weasleys’ who weren’t that happy with him at that moment. Plus, he had not fought with Draco at all that day, which made him not all that unpleasant to be around. There were still little things that annoyed him. He was still not comfortable, but it wasn’t that bad.

‘If you give them a little, they will back off a lot. They write rubbish about you because you refuse to give them any truth.’

‘Oh, not you too!’ Harry groaned as he rubbed his forehead in frustration. ‘I get this from Hermione. Besides, I remember a time when your family was written about quite a bit.’ Harry pointed an accusing finger at Draco, who shrugged.

‘That was a dark time for all of us, but you do need to learn how to make deals with people,’ Draco continued not letting Harry drop the subject. ‘You cannot just give them an interview and expect them to back off. You have to let them know that they’ll only get the interview if they back off.’ 

They arrived at the same deli they ate at the previous day, and Draco pulled open the door and gestured Harry inside.

‘But,’ Harry said petulantly. ‘I don’t want to tell them anything.’

Draco sighed and shook his head as he calmed himself before he said something he would regret. It amazed him how much self-control he learnt the last year of the war. Having to watch people get tortured when they said the wrong thing, taught him how to keep his mouth shut. Harry was acting like a child, and he wanted to tell him that, but he didn’t.

‘There’re things I’m sure you don’t mind talking about.’ Draco assured him. ‘Like, for instance, that you’re going to be an Auror and the training you’re doing now.’

‘Well, that no,’ Harry reluctantly admitted. ‘But, they don’t care about that. Everyone already knows about that.’

‘But no one has heard _you_ talk about it.’ That was true, of course. No one had heard Harry say anything; he did not even make an official statement at the end of the war. 

There were bits of information from the few people Harry had talked to, like the Minister of Magic and the head of the Auror department, but there had not been a direct quote from _Harry Potter_ in the news since their fifth year of school. Yet, no matter how much Harry hid from it, the public’s interest in him never wavered.

‘They won’t just stick to that. They’ll try to make me say more, or say I said things that I didn’t.’ Harry got angry by just the thought of some of the things that had been said about him. It lingered without being said that Draco was the cause of most of it. 

Despite that, Draco pressed on.

‘So, you don’t let them,’ Draco said forcefully. ‘Look, I’ll help you. I’ll get Rita—’ 

Harry groaned and rolled his eyes. 

Draco continued as if he did not hear him. ‘I’ll get Rita to call you on Monday, and I will be there with you if you want me there.’ 

Harry glared at Draco, who was not intimidated by that in the least.

‘What? Just talk about the Auror program?’

‘Yes.’

Harry’s breathing started to quicken, and he was obviously trying to hold back his anger.

Draco sighed in exasperation. ‘Calm down, Potter. It will be fine. I told you I’d be there for you.’

‘Excuse me if that’s not reassuring, but you’ve never been there for me before.’

‘I’m your fiancée. You have to learn to trust me.’

He was not going to take it, though. Just because they were getting married didn’t mean he had to listen to everything Draco told him to do.

‘That might take a while.’ Harry gritted out.

‘I trust you.’ Draco sounded offend that Harry was still holding a grudge, not that it had been that long since they were enemies.

‘I’m a trustworthy person, and I have _not_ made it my top priority to ruin your life since we were eleven years old.’

‘Have I ruined your life?’

‘Not yet . . .’ Harry was going to add _but if I give you a few weeks you might_ , when Draco said, ‘Well then, quit thinking that I will. On Monday, on your lunch, come by the Manor.’

‘You can’t make me do this,’ Harry said in a low, angry voice as he vowed to himself to quit having important discussions with Draco in public. It had already turned into a pattern where he always lost.

‘You’re right. I can’t, but I’d like you to.’ Draco’s voice changed to a pleading tone. ‘So would you just think about it?’

Harry calmed down. No one had just asked him before. Hermione had _suggested_ it and then dropped it. She would bring it up in conversation, but never just asked. Ginny would fight with him about it. He did not want to think about her just then or about the interview. Maybe they were all right. When had Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger ever agreed on anything before? Harry reluctantly nodded. He’d think about it.

After Harry had thought about it, he realised that Draco was acting just as he would expect someone that he was engaged to would act. Well, minus the physical contact that he would _also_ expect. Had Draco touched him at all that day? There had been a tense moment earlier when Draco showed or rather taught Harry how to properly tie his tie. Draco still ended up fixing it after Harry’s attempt each time. It had made Harry nervous. He expected Draco to kiss him at any moment.

Draco had not kissed him. When was he going to kiss him? The day they got married, or maybe at the dinner party? It was not that he wanted Draco to kiss him. It was just that they were going to get married, and they had not kissed yet. 

It was weird, and Draco was acting strangely. Harry needed to talk. 

So, naturally, he went to Hermione and hoped Ron didn’t have too many negative things to say. Besides, he needed to bring them up to speed with the proceedings of the wedding arrangements and let them know their role in it. He had put it off long enough.

#

‘Do you think he’s up to something?’ Harry asked since he'd decided he might as well get it out, instead of beating around the bush.

Ron snorted. ‘We already told you that he’s up to something, mate.’

‘Yes, but I mean with his new behaviour? He’s not himself. He’s acting …’ Harry did not know how to describe it. ‘Friendly?’ But not _too_ friendly.

‘Well,’ Hermione said, ‘you didn’t like him before, Harry. How’s he supposed to make you fall in love with him by being someone that you hate?’ She looked at him as though it genuinely confused her that Harry had not expected Draco to be “friendly” toward him.

Harry grimaced. She had a point. ‘Do you think it’s just an act? Should I believe anything he says?’ Or did? Or _didn’t_ do?

‘Are you afraid that it might not be?’

‘What?’ Harry faltered for words. Of course, he didn’t _care_ if Draco was acting. ‘No, of course, it’s an act—’ It was just that . . . that would be cheating wouldn’t it? He was supposed to fall in love with Draco, not someone pretending to be all Harry had ever wanted. ‘But I don’t want him pretending to be someone he’s _not_ all of the time.’

Hermione smiled her all knowing you’re-making-this-more-complicated-than-it-is smile and said, ‘Then tell him that.’

‘Start our first fight?’

Ron laughed at him then. ‘It’s what you do best, after all.’

‘Would we be allowed to fight if this were real?’

‘Harry,’ Hermione said in surprise. ‘This _is_ real. You’re not getting married for _love_ , but you _are_ getting married. Just like any match that would have been made for Draco, except, you are choosing it. You’re marrying Malfoy.’

‘For two years,’ he added in as if the time limit changed the dynamic of it completely.

‘As if a time limit changes anything—’ Hermione rolled her eyes, but continued. ‘Of course, you can fight with him and tell him to be himself if it bothers you.’ She threw her hands in the air to show how frustrated he was making her with his slow grasp of what he was doing. ‘You think that purebloods don't fight with their spouses because their parents tell them not to?’

‘I don’t know.’ Harry had never thought too much about it, but at school, it seemed that everything Malfoy did he did because he parents told him to. ‘Maybe. He says there are all sorts of rules.’

‘Well,’ she huffed. ‘One of those rules is no divorce, and you two plan to break that one.’

‘He doesn’t.’ Because, of course, Draco planned to win. Harry ran his fingers through his hair and closed his eyes, before he said, ‘I do.’

Harry knew that it was probably an important piece of information. It would help them figure out what Draco was up to, but he had been too upset about the fight with Ginny when they’d talked about it before. It wasn’t until later that he’d remember just what it was that Draco and more importantly _he_ had said.

‘What do you mean, he doesn’t? I thought you said he didn’t say what’d happen if he won?’

‘Right, but … he did ask me, though.’

They waited for Harry to continue, but he just looked away from them.

‘And you said?’ Hermione tapped her foot impatiently.

‘That we’d already be married.’ He winced before he even finished the sentence because he knew what would happen.

Hermione’s voice was shrill, loud and made him feel like he was twelve years old again. ‘Why didn’t you tell us this before!’

‘I forgot,’ Harry sputtered. ‘I was upset about Ginny.’

‘Speaking of Ginny,’ Ron said. ‘Have you heard from her?’

‘No…’ Harry looked up at him and tried not to sound too desperate for news of her. ‘Have you?’

‘Yeah, she’s settling in fine.’ Ron and Hermione shared a look. ‘I just thought she might have written to you.’

Harry hated it when they did that. It reminded him of the time when they had not told him anything all summer long, after their fourth year. They were keeping secrets from him _again_. It hurt more now because it was about Ginny. He couldn’t ask them for information about her or yell at them for not giving it to him. It was none of his business what Ginny had told them because they were not together anymore. For the next two years, he had to get used to that. Even if the thing with Draco hadn’t happened, he still would have had to get used to that.

‘Anyway,’ Hermione brought them back to their original conversation. ‘About Malfoy. It’s your marriage; do what you want with it. Just remember that this is real and not a game.’

‘Thank you,’ Harry said suddenly serious. He looked from Hermione to Ron. ‘Both of you for being here for me.’

‘That’s what friends are for, mate,’ Ron said with a smile.

Harry smiled back. ‘Speaking of being there for me . . .’

‘What? Ron looked frightened then. After all, what else would Harry be throwing at them?’

‘Would you two like to be in our wedding?’

Ron looked a little stunned, but Hermione just smiled.

‘Of course, we will, Harry,’ Hermione answered for them both.

‘Good,’ Harry said, ‘because Mrs Malfoy already made an appointment for you to get fitted for the dress robes.’


	4. Remember, You Don't Care

Before Harry knew it, it was the night of the engagement party. He had done the interview with Skeeter like he had agreed to do. It did not turn out all that bad, and nothing had been printed about him since then. His life had been quiet and uneventful otherwise, with Ginny being gone, and Draco being all _nice_ to him.

Harry hadn’t brought up his irritation about his personality change yet. It kept being there on the tip of his tongue, but not coming out. His nerves were on edge then, and he suddenly wished he’d yelled at Draco the many times he’d had the chance.

Ron came quietly into the room and stood next to Harry, who was staring at himself in a floor length mirror fighting with his tie.

‘Hey,’ Ron said. He looked more uncomfortable in his dress robes than Harry felt in his own. Their eyes met in the reflection of the mirror. ‘How are you doing?’

Harry undid his tie again, ready to throw it to the ground. ‘Fine.’ He slowly went through the steps to tie the knot, only for the front to be too short and the back of the tie hung below it, again. ‘I’m just not looking forward to any of this.’

Why would he be? Even if they did learn to get along, which Harry had begun to realise was a possibility, he would still be married to a guy that treated him like dirt for seven years. He had a sinking feeling in his stomach that just got worse by the day.

‘No one ever does.’ Ron laughed. ‘Hermione says that the wedding and the first year are the hardest part.’

Harry was not sure where Ron was going with that.

‘If you get through that, you’re set.’

Harry had to get through it. He didn’t have a choice without admitting he was wrong and giving up on the bet altogether. As the days went on, it became both an increasingly and a decreasingly attractive idea. If he gave up, then he would have to admit Draco was right; then he’d either spend all his free time at home alone or with Ron and Hermione watching them be the perfect couple. As his wedding day approached, he was becoming more aware of what “married” really meant and how long two years could be.

Bill and Fleur had been married for two years. They had a baby girl. As unfortunate as his wedding was, it still caused all the married couples around him to reminisce about their weddings. About how much they’d changed since then.

‘Alright,’ Harry said, finishing with his tie. ‘I think I’m ready.’ 

‘What are you so nervous about?’ Ron asked as he laughed. ‘Remember you don’t care what Malfoy thinks.’

Harry shrugged. He did not know how to answer that because he was not sure why he was so worked up about it.

Harry was told to arrive earlier than everyone else, but Hermione and Ron came with him for moral support. The Malfoys dropped the wards to allow them to Apparate. Suddenly they were standing in the same room that they had been taken to when the snatcher got them during the war. Harry clenched his fists when he saw Hermione pale and began to fidget.

Draco and his mother were there, waiting for them, and Mrs Malfoy caught on to the tension right away. While Draco just seemed to be confused by it.

‘Why don’t we move to the dining room?’ She was sitting and held out her hand. ‘Draco?’ He took her hand delicately and helped her rise to her feet. It was as they were all leaving the room, and Draco was pulling the door shut that Harry caught his eye and then looked toward the fireplace. Draco had been leaning against it on that night years before. Harry saw the comprehension hit him.

As Draco’s mother continued to lead the others down the hall, Draco pulled Harry back. 

‘Potter, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking—’

‘About anybody other than yourself? I guess I’m going to have to get used to that, huh?’ Not that Harry wasn’t already used to that from Draco. It was simply that he’d had a break from it for the last couple weeks.

‘No,’ Draco said. ‘That’s not how this is supposed to be.’

Harry knew that he was making a bigger deal out of the situation than it was. It was about all the little things that had been bothering him, and he could not keep them in any longer.

‘I’m sick of that, too,’ Harry said, walking towards Draco almost pinning him to the wall. ‘Quit being all friendly and sucking up to me; that’s not you!’

‘How that’s not me?’ Draco countered, refusing to let Harry have him backed into a corner. ‘You don’t know anything about me to even have a basis for that accusation.’

‘I’ve known you since we were eleven. I think I have a pretty good idea of your character by now.’

Draco opened his mouth to continue, but Harry went right on venting not realising that he was steadily getting louder.

‘You’re always hateful and look down on everyone and everything around you, including your friends!’

‘How would you know?’ Draco shook his head at Harry. ‘You’ve never seen how I am when I’m _with_ my friends. I’m only hateful when I’m in a bad mood, which, by the way, your presence used to put me in.’

Harry took one step back away from him.

‘Used to?’ What would have made that change? ‘Then why aren’t you like that now?’ Harry lowered his voice back to a more conversational tone. ‘Why have you been acting like a normal person?’

‘Because I _am_ a normal person.’ Draco glared as he gritted his words out through his teeth. ‘And, I grew up.’ He turned to walk away, but Harry caught him by his elbow and forcefully made Draco turn to face him.

‘I’m sorry; I didn’t mean it like that.’

Draco was staring down the hall, while Harry tried to catch his eye. Harry did mean it just as he said it, but in retrospect, it was a rather callous thing to say to anyone.

‘I just don’t want you pretending to be someone else to win this bet. You haven’t been acting anything like what I know of you since I agreed to this bet.’

‘I’ve been treating you as I would’ve anyone that I was engaged to.’ Draco took a deep, slow breath as he tried to keep his temper down. ‘What would you prefer me to do? Would you rather I insult everything you do?’

‘If that’s how you feel about it.’ Harry shrugged. ‘I just want you to be honest, especially if you’re expecting me to fall in love with you. I can’t do that if you are not yourself.’

Draco’s eyes met Harry’s, and then he nodded before they continued down the hall. Their pace was slow as Harry still felt something hanging in the air. After a beat, he realised it wasn’t for Draco though; he’d only kept his pace not to leave Harry behind.

The other thing on Harry’s mind had been: ‘You really wouldn’t kiss someone you’re engaged to?’

‘Not until the wedding day.’ Draco gave Harry a confused look, and then after studying his expression smirked. ‘Why? Do you _want_ me to kiss you?’

‘It’s not that...’ Harry shifted nervously. ‘I just thought it was odd.’

Draco stopped him right before they entered the dining room and leant forward as if he was going to kiss him but stopped before their lips met. ‘Stand up straight and quit staring at the ground when you walk,’ Draco ordered, and when Harry glared at him in defiance, he added, ‘It makes you look unsure of yourself.’

He glanced down at Harry’s tie, rolled his eyes, and fixed it before they joined everyone else.

‘Ah, there you are,’ Mrs Malfoy said as they entered and joined them at the table. ‘We have a few things to discuss before Mr Zabini and Ms Parkinson arrive, and they should be here soon.’ After they had settled in and everyone had their attention on her, she continued, ‘I thought it would be a good idea if everyone would get more acquainted with each other. I have invited you earlier because you play a more important role in all of this.’

‘In the wedding?’ Hermione asked.

‘Yes,’ Mrs Malfoy answered, ‘but more importantly in their lives.’

Harry glanced at Draco to see that he was just as confused at her point as the rest of them.

Mrs Malfoy continued, ‘Draco said that he and Harry are planning to do this as properly as possible.’ She forced a tight smile with that—there was no real way for them to go about their marriage in the traditional way. ‘Since I’m sure none of you are used to our customs—’

‘You’re going to enlighten them?’ Draco snorted.

Harry had not planned to involve anyone in their arrangement other than the wedding itself.

‘Have faith, you’ll appreciate this later,’ she said.

Harry gave Draco a questioning look, but Draco only rolled his eyes and waved his mother to continue. Draco hadn’t even gone over with _him_ what how everything was supposed to go.

‘This is going to be their relationship. It is considered inappropriate to persuade either party to attempt to end the relationship. They need to work it out together everything they do. It will be the same with me—’ 

Draco cut her off there because Granger looked insulted, and Weasley looked confused. ‘They have probably said all they could to get him out of it as it is. None of this is relevant, Mother, or I would have informed them myself.’ He sighed and then turned to Ron and Hermione. ‘She only means that you are not supposed to give Harry any advice. If I were to go to her because Harry and I were having a problem, she would listen and then say “do whatever you feel is best.” You aren’t supposed to help him.’

‘Why not?’ Ron asked.

‘It only causes unwanted problems. They have to make their decisions without the influences of others and if…’ Mrs Malfoy’s posture tightened obviously not liking the next part so, Draco continued for her.

‘If you don’t like what we come up with, it’s considered improper to complain about it.’

When Hermione opened her mouth to retort Draco stopped her.

‘I had not expected any of you to follow that even if I'd told you, which is why I didn’t bring it up.’ Then he turned to speak more to Harry than the others. ‘But, if this is done right, that is how it would be. Once we get married, my mother no longer has any say in any decisions we make and has to support them even if she does not agree with them.’

‘Same goes with us,’ Parkinson said as she and Zabini entered the room. ‘Did we miss much?’

‘Not at all,’ Mrs Malfoy answered as they were taking their seats.

‘That seems fair,’ Harry said. He thought he wouldn't listen to anything anyone had to say anyway, but it would be nice to know that he had an out to the nagging. ‘I can see how it could cause more problems if we brought everyone else into our fights as well. I’m surprised. I thought your parents would control you until you died, or they did rather.’

‘Would you have expected that of your parents?’ Mrs Malfoy asked.

‘Well,’ Harry fidgeted. ‘I guess I would have expected them always to give me advice, but to force me—I suppose not, but they weren’t proper, were they?’

‘Really, Potter,’ Zabini said. ‘Do you think that all of _our_ grandparents were thrilled about the idea of their children joining a war?’

Harry blushed not knowing how to respond to that. Of course, he thought they all supported Voldemort. Hadn’t they?

‘No,’ Zabini continued. ‘In fact, I believe, Draco's father's parents did not like the idea of their only heir putting himself in such a dangerous situation.’

‘Yes, it was what made our parents agree to our match so quickly.’ Mrs Malfoy smiled at the memory. ‘His parents loved me because I refused to join him, and my parents loved Lucius because he already had.’

As everyone else began to arrive, the atmosphere became more and tenser. Mrs Weasley kept complimenting Mrs Malfoy’s decorations and clothes, which irritated Ron to no end, though Hermione assured him it was because she was just trying to make conversation. In a way, it had worked, though no one else seemed to be able to participate in it. Mr and Mrs Weasley, both being pure-bloods themselves, had a traditional arranged marriage.

‘I think it’s nice you’re choosing to follow the old ways,’ Mrs Weasley stated after a few glasses of wine. ‘Bill and Fleur did that as well. It was important to her parents . . . not that I would ever have disagreed with it.’

Harry faked a smile remembering how irritated they were with Fleur through the entire wedding.

‘So few children choose to follow the old traditions anymore. I think it shows maturity and commitment—’

Harry felt he was certainly missing something about these traditions. Other than the arranged part, which he and Draco weren't doing, nothing seemed any different than a Muggle wedding and marriage. So, no one was allowed to interfere with their marriage, and they weren’t allowed to divorce—except they planned on breaking that one, too. 

Parkinson cut in to Mrs Weasley's drunken chatter, ‘That's why most of our parents don’t give us a choice.’

‘My mother did,’ Draco said.

‘Yes, well I did say most.’ Pansy rested her chin on the back of her hand. ‘Although, I’m not sure my parents would agree that this . . .’ she gestured between the two boys, ‘. . . is proper.’

‘I’m not so sure that I’d agree with them then.’ Mrs Malfoy smiled. ‘After wars, it used to be customary to offer a marriage between royalty to solidify the truce.’

Pansy scowled, and Harry snorted at the idea of himself and Malfoy being royalty.

‘I can’t say that I was surprised—well, I was surprised that Mr Potter agreed—but not that my son had offered.’

‘It wasn’t exactly an offe—’ Ron was shut up by Hermione pinching his arm. Luckily, dinner was served just then, and the need to converse had, for the time being, ended. Afterwards, they all retired to a different lounge and slowly the number of guests tapered off until it was once again the seven of them.

‘Is dinner always this long?’ Harry said as he sat down on the couch. Hermione smiled at Harry reassuringly, but let Draco answer.

‘A dinner party yes, but dinner, in general, no.’ Draco sat next to Harry on the main sofa. ‘And it’s normally not as difficult,’ Draco assured him. ‘When everyone gets more acquainted with each other, it will seem like it ends too soon.’

‘You’ll see, Harry,’ Hermione agreed with Draco. ‘The rehearsal will be busy, but more relaxed. This was a good idea.’

‘Thank you, Miss Granger.’ Mrs Malfoy walked over to join them. ‘Speaking of the wedding, are you two ready for your next task?’

‘Right now?’ Harry asked exhausted.

Draco smirked at him.

‘No,’ Mrs Malfoy said, ‘but tomorrow you need to at least discuss where you’re going to live once you’re married.’

#

‘We both already have multiple places to live,’ Harry said and the made their way to visit with the estate agent. Harry had to say one thing about Mrs Malfoy: she did get things done quickly.

‘We are obviously going to live together,’ Draco drawled.

Harry rolled his eyes at that. ‘I know _that_ ,’ he snapped and then sighed as he tried to collect himself. ‘I just meant that we could just live in one of the places we already own.’

‘Where’s the fun in that?’ Draco scoffed, but after he saw how close Harry was to lose his temper, he decided to explain. ‘We need a new place because we are starting a new path. The Manor is big enough, but even if I had married someone my parents picked for me, we would not have lived there until my parents moved out.’

‘Moved out?’ Was that his way of saying they died?

‘It’s different based on the agreements of every family’s inheritance. My parents were going to leave me the Manor when my father retired, which wasn’t supposed to be for another twenty-five years. They were going to live in a smaller mansion in France that they own. My mother loves it there.’

Harry thought about it and didn’t like the idea of leaving Mrs Malfoy alone in that huge Manor by herself. Maybe it would be better if they stayed with her.

‘None of that can change without my father’s approval or death. I’ve already received my first inheritance when I came of age, and I’ll get my second inheritance when we get married, but I can’t receive my full inheritance before my father’s death.’

‘So who is controlling the Malfoy fortune right now?’

‘Nothing is being done with it right now, and nothing can be done with it. My mother has her own money, and if she chooses to leave Malfoy Manor, it will still be taken care of without her.’

Harry shook his head. It was a lot to take in. Draco got three inheritances? Maybe it was because he was an only child; he had said that it was different for each family.

They arrived at the first flat, which turned out to be on the top floor. It was huge, and he could not even think of what he would do with all that space. Draco, of course, seemed to disagree. It was the same with all the places they visited. They were massive, much more than what two people needed, and Draco would always find something that was just not up to par.

‘We don’t need all of this space,’ Harry insisted, again, after they left the flat and were on their way to the last one on their list: a house out in the country. ‘And when we are no longer together what are we going to do with it?’

‘Didn’t we already discuss how you’re not supposed to treat this like it will end in two years?’ Draco said lightly. ‘And I am thinking about that. Why do you think I'm so particular about it? I presumed when we were done with it, we would donate it to some charity … I’ll even let you pick which one.’

‘What would a charity want a flat for?’

‘They wouldn’t … that’s why I’ve been leaning more to the houses.’

‘Okay, so what would a charity do with a house then?’

‘I don’t know, Harry. Turn it into an office or an orphanage or something.’

Harry had never really thought about that before. He was an orphan, but he hadn’t grown up in an orphanage. The only one he had ever seen was in Dumbledore’s memories, and it had been dark and cold. Suddenly Draco’s complaints about there not being enough sunlight through the windows didn’t seem so snobbish. They popped up outside the house on a massive lawn, and Harry could already see that the windows would not be a problem with that house.

‘I like this … so far,’ Draco said as they walked up to the front door.

As Harry looked through the house, in mind with the idea that it might later become an orphanage, it became less tedious and more exciting. He didn’t roll his eyes every time Draco mentioned the size, or if there was enough space. They could only use not even an eighth of the house, but it was the perfect size for twenty to thirty children.

‘No complaints about it being too big?’

‘No, I like it,’ Harry agreed. ‘It’s bright.’

‘See, I told you windows are important.’

A few days later, they brought Hermione to see the house before they agreed to the contract. 

‘Oh my, Harry this place is _huge_ ,’ Hermione said. ‘What are you going to put in it?’

‘I have no idea.’ Harry shrugged. ‘I was going to leave that up to Draco and his mother.’

‘That’s probably a good idea. When are you moving in?’

‘When we get back from the honeymoon.’

She turned around to face him, surprised. ‘You’re going on a honeymoon?’

‘Why wouldn’t we ?’

‘What about your Auror training?’

Harry turned to the stairs and started climbing them to show Hermione the second floor. ‘We’re only going for the weekend,’ Harry explained. ‘Monday morning everything will be back to normal or “on schedule” as he put it.’

‘So . . . where are you going?’

‘I don’t know.’ Harry led her down the hallway. At the end of it, a massiveHarry opened a set of double doors. ‘I don’t think he knows either.’ The room they entered had a platform for a bed, and on the outside wall was a huge with a large window seat that stretched across it.

‘Is this the master bedroom?’ Hermione asked in awe. ‘You seem excited about this…’

‘Well, I sort of am now. About the _house_ , at least.’

‘I never thought you’d like a big place like this.’

‘Draco mentioned that we might turn it into an orphanage when we don't need it any longer.’ Harry smiled. ‘And I figure it’d be an experience this next couple of years. You know seeing what it’s like to live in his world.’

‘Are you going to show him what it’s like to live in yours?’

‘I’m not sure that I can…’ Harry said slightly confused as to what she meant. There was no way he was going to let Draco know about his childhood when he had never even really told his best friends about it. There was no way to show him that he didn’t need all the best things in life without taking them away, and they couldn’t live in both a huge mansion and a small flat at the same time.

‘Harry!’ Draco called down the hallway before entering the suite. ‘There you are. You have to sign the contract, as well.’

‘I know, I was just showing Hermione…’

Draco strutted in and spun around in the middle of the room taking it all in, again. ‘It _is_ a beautiful room.’

‘I’d say so,’ Hermione agreed. ‘It’ll be an experience.’


	5. Kind of Silly

Harry tried to shake the tension out of his arms. ‘I can’t believe I’m getting married in fifteen minutes.’

‘You did fine in the rehearsal,’ Hermione said. ‘It’s going to be okay.’

‘Are you going to kiss him in the ceremony?’ Ron asked.

‘Ron!’ Hermione smacked Ron’s arm.

‘What?’ Ron asked defensively. ‘They didn’t in the rehearsal!’ 

It was obvious that Ron hoped that he wasn’t going to have to witness their first kiss.

‘Of course, they are,’ she hissed. ‘Harry, ignore him.’

‘I don’t know why I’m so nervous…’

‘You’ve always hated public events,’ Hermione said. ‘It’s not that surprising. Just remember that all the people here are your friends and family.’

‘Or going to be,’ Ron added.

‘You are not helping,’ Hermione mouthed at Ron, but Harry could see it through mirror.

‘Really, mate, I’m not sure why you’re so nervous either… What I’d be afraid of is what happens after you leave the reception tonight.’

‘Maybe that _is_ what I’m afraid of,’ Harry said under his breath still confused as to why he couldn’t get his heart to stop beating so fast.

‘There’s nothing you can do about that right now,’ Hermione said. ‘You’re just nervous because you hate lying and are about go out there and promise to cherish and love _Draco Malfoy_.’ 

That forced a smile out of Harry, who really didn’t have a problem with lying, and a gag from Ron.

‘I’m getting married, Hermione.’ Harry ran his hands through his hair as he sat down on the chaise. ‘What was I thinking?’

Ron snorted. ‘You’re asking us that now?’

‘You weren’t thinking, and stop that. You’re going to ruin your hair,’ Hermione pulled his hands away from his hair and started muttering spells at it, before pulling him back into a standing position and fixing his tie. ‘Okay, now you’re perfect, just don’t touch anything.’ 

Harry nodded. ‘Is Ginny here?’

‘No,’ Hermione said curtly. ‘She’s busy.’

‘It’s Friday night and almost seven o’clock…’

‘Fine then. She didn’t want to come.’ There was a tap on the door, and Neville informed them it was time to go. Hermione nodded towards him and got Harry and Ron out the door. 

The place was beautiful, though Malfoy Manor always was. It was decorated with more candles than flowers, and though they were the only lighting, there were enough of them that it wasn’t the least bit dark. They didn’t do the traditional march down the aisle, as there was no bride. Instead, they both formed lines at the sides and came in walking straight towards each other. They also stayed away from the traditional gentlemen on one side and the ladies on the other. Ron was next to Harry and Hermione was next to Ron on his side, where Draco’s was just the opposite with Pansy in between Blaise and Draco.

‘Everyone may be seated,’ the bonding official declared. It was much like a traditional Muggle wedding. They were told what to say and repeated it word for word. They had practiced it once the night before, but Harry didn’t remember anything about it and was still taking cues from the official and Draco. Harry hadn’t paid attention to the words when they had said them the night before, but he had noticed that they were slightly different than what was said at Bill and Fleur’s wedding. He noticed then, that not only did they promise to honor and obey each other, but also to love and trust each other as well until they both died. Harry twitched when he heard Draco say the word love, and he was afraid that he wouldn’t be able to repeat the sentence himself. He and Draco were holding hands through the entire ceremony, and Draco squeezed his hand or thumbed the back of it whenever Harry started to stutter.

It hadn’t seemed so final during the rehearsal, or at any point up until then when they said their vows. 

Harry never turned around or looked anywhere but at Draco, afraid that if he did he would run out of the room. Draco never took his eyes off of Harry either, but he looked much calmer, in control and almost happy. Draco’s expression never changed much at all, and Harry still didn’t know him well enough to determine whether or not he was happy. Draco had the same serious look he always wore on his face when he wasn’t sneering, but it seemed softer as he slipped the ring on Harry’s finger. Harry was still shaky, but he took Draco’s ring confidently and slowly put it on Draco’s finger. Then they were back to holding hands and listening to the bonding official.

‘Now you may kiss to seal the bond.’ He nodded his head at them, and Harry froze once again. 

They hadn’t practice that part before just mentioned it in passing. Draco still had yet to kiss him.

Sensing Harry’s hesitation Draco pulled him forward gently and leaned in. 

‘Isn’t this what you’ve been waiting for?’ Draco mocked him with a small smirk and then leaned in the rest of the way to kiss him.

Harry felt Draco open his mouth and did the same, though neither of them introduced their tongues. Harry wasn’t quite ready for that, and it would have been highly inappropriate in front of all their guests. That Draco opened his mouth at all surprised him, but not as much as the second and third kiss did. He expected it to be a quick peck on the lips, but it was so much better than that. Harry found that Draco was a good kisser and that kissing a man wasn’t all that different from kissing a girl.

‘You can breathe now,’ Draco whispered as he pulled away.

‘Yeah,’ Harry mumbled, ‘right,’ as they turned to face their guests then walked down the aisle with their friends behind them.

#

The reception was in yet another massive room of the Manor that was decorated to match the room they had the wedding in. Despite the very few people that were gathered, it was rather lovely, and people did dance and had fun.

It wasn’t until Harry noticed how the Weasleys vastly outnumbered the Malfoys, that he realised Draco’s mother, Blaise and Pansy were the only ones there for Draco. Didn’t Draco have grandparents, or aunts, uncles, and cousins? Well, he knew Draco had at least one aunt, but even she was there because of Harry. At least, he thought so. She had spent most of the night closer to Mrs Malfoy then the Weasleys. He didn’t bother mentioning any of that, or asking Draco about his family, but he noticed Draco watching his mother and aunt talking with a concerned looked.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing.’ Draco shook his head. ‘I just wasn’t sure how my mother was going to handle all of this.’

‘She’s been the calmest person in the room out of everyone?’ Harry asked perplexed as to what Draco thought he needed to worry about it.

‘You don’t know my mother very well,’ Draco commented lightly. ‘They’re talking.’

Harry laughed at Draco’s worried tone. ‘They’re sisters.’ 

‘Yes, but they’re sisters who haven’t even nodded towards each other in public, since before either of us were born.’

‘Maybe, this will turn out to be a good thing!’

Draco smirked at Harry, ‘I’m sure it will. My mother could use family right now. It’s just different.’

#

And then, there was Ginny.

‘Hello, Harry!’ She forced a smile as she approached him.

‘Ginny,’ he said much too excitedly for Draco, who stood quietly next to him. ‘You came.’

‘Apparently,’ Draco muttered under his breath, but Harry ignored him.

‘Sorry, I couldn’t make it to the actual wedding.’ Though it was obvious, she wasn’t sorry and didn’t want to be there at all. ‘I’m sure it was lovely.’

‘It’s okay. Does this mean you’re not mad at me anymore?’ 

Draco could see the hope in Harry’s eyes and had to bit his tongue.

‘No, I’m not mad at you. I know you aren’t doing this to hurt me.’ Ginny sighed. ’And I’ve made my peace with it, though I think you’re still too thick to realise what you’re doing,’ she said the last part more to herself. 

Harry responded with a confused glare, but before he could question her she spoke again. 

‘We’re still friends, Harry. I’ve done a lot of thinking these last few weeks, and I know that you will always be a part of my family.’

‘Well, isn’t that wonderful,’ Draco drawled. ‘But, Harry, we have other guests to attend to.’ Draco grabbed Harry’s hand and led him away. He cursed under his breath as he realised that the only other people were also Weasleys, and so, he settled on Hermione and Ron. 

Ginny had rolled her eyes and followed them. She was related to everyone there, and they would rather talk to her than to Draco, and it became increasingly awkward for Draco. As though he were the one tagging along at Harry and Ginny’s wedding. 

Oblivious to all of that and happy that things seemed to go back to normal, Harry began to chat with his friends like it was any other day and not his wedding with someone other than Ginny. Harry was finally relaxing for the first time all day, and Draco was trying to keep himself from hexing his husband. 

Granger caught on it right away and soon after Harry noticed her glaring at him, they had a silent exchange that the rest of the group seem oblivious of. She tilted her head ever so slightly towards the dance floor. Harry caught her drift immediately, rolling his eyes but then started to turn towards Ginny. Hermione lost all subtlety then with a loud cough. 

Ron pat her back roughly, ‘Are you alright?’

Harry glanced back and forth between Draco and the dance floor a few times before he even attempted to make a sound. ‘Uh, um…’ Then continued the back and forth movement, while his sounds failed to turn into words. 

Draco smirked, laced his fingers through Harry’s, and pulled him to the dance floor. Draco hated to be grateful to Hermione, but she seemed to be the only one with a head on her shoulders at the moment. The song was mercifully a slow one, so after only a small bit of fumbling on Harry’s part Draco took the lead and they danced.

‘So,’ Draco said, hoping to get back to the atmosphere they had before Ginny had arrived. ‘Was it everything you thought it would be?’

‘What?’

‘Our first kiss,’ Draco reminded him. ‘I know you were looking forward to it.’ 

‘Let’s not forget who the fairy is here,’ Harry said. 

Draco glared. 

‘Shit, I’m sorry.’

‘Let me guess, you didn’t really mean that.’

‘No, I really didn’t.’ Harry shook his head. ‘I don’t know why you make me say things like that.’

‘I _make_ you?’

‘No one else gets to me like you do,’ Harry admitted.

Draco smirked. ‘I’ll take that as a compliment.’

Harry actually laughed at that.

‘You would take that as a compliment.’

‘I can get to you in ways that your “little girlfriend” can’t? How am I not supposed to take that as a compliment?’ Draco’s tone was scathing when he referred to the “little girlfriend” yet instantly became teasing again at the following sentence. 

Harry’s forehead wrinkled in confusion. ‘What do you have against Ginny?’

‘Her presence seems to confuse you on who you’re married to.’

Harry laughed. ‘This is a bet Malfoy.’

‘That’s not the point,’ Draco said.

‘Okay then, what’s the point?’

‘It’s about respect. She is your ex, and I am your spouse, and you should show me a little respect. You shouldn’t look at her through the whole evening, and you should be kissing me instead of apologising to her.’ 

Harry stopped moving and stared at Draco stunned. 

‘It looks bad when you make it so clear that you don’t want to be here with me. Do you think everyone in an arranged marriage is happy about it? No, of course, they aren’t. They’re arranged. But they don’t disrespect their spouse by drooling or mooning over their ex the whole time.’ 

Harry didn’t try to apologise. He would have failed at it anyway; Draco was sure. Instead, he kissed him. It startled Draco for a moment, but it helped his anger disappear quickly. Draco didn’t hesitate to introduce tongue in the kiss. Harry was his, and certain people needed to realise that. Most importantly: Harry.

‘Are you sure this is appropriate here?’ Harry pulled back to ask.

‘It’s our wedding! Where could it possibly be more appropriate?’

#

‘I’m exhausted,’ Harry said as he sat on the bed after they arrived in their hotel room. ‘Where are we?’

‘I’m not sure.’ Draco walked over to the window and pulled back the curtains. They covered french doors that lead to a balcony, so he opened and walked out on to it. Harry stood and followed him outside. ‘New York City… they say there is something for everyone here.’ He glanced at Harry’s puzzled look. ‘What?’

‘I guess I expected someplace… romantic.’

‘I’d imagine that New York can be romantic.’ Draco looked over the city and then moved to take Harry’s hand, but stopped short. ‘You were expecting something like Italy or France? Some place lovers go?’ He laughed. ‘We’re not lovers. Don’t you think we’d get bored there?’

‘You said that your mother loved France.’

‘My mother has a lover,’ he pointed out.

‘What? Who?’ Harry asked. Draco’s mother never left or had visitors, and he never thought of her as someone who would fool around on the side of her marriage.

Draco rolled his eyes. ‘My father.’ 

He turned and walked back inside once again followed by Harry. It caught Harry off guard, not that her lover would be Draco’s father—which made perfect sense, and he felt like an idiot for asking—but Draco referring to him as though he was just sitting at home. He was normally very aware of his father’s absence, though Harry tried not to mention it. 

‘I’m going to take a shower.’

#

After Draco finished his shower Harry took one as well. It had been a long day, and the hot water helped him relax, though not enough to forget what was waiting for him outside the bathroom. He took much longer than he normally did and even combed his hair before leaving the bathroom, not that it did any good. Draco lay on his side in the bed facing outwards, so he climbed in behind him.

Harry always wore only his pants to bed, since he no longer shared a room with four other boys and didn’t own anything else any longer. However, Draco was wearing silk pyjamas, and Harry would have laughed about that except he was too nervous so that it would have seemed forced. Draco didn’t move, but Harry was sure that he knew he was there. He lay behind Draco in a position that would have been spooning had they been touching and slowly reached out to touch Draco’s shoulder.

‘We don’t have to do anything,’ Draco said before Harry’s hand made contact. ‘I wasn’t going to force any girl I married to do it until she felt comfortable, and I don’t plan to do it to you either.’

‘You wouldn’t have really wanted to with any girl anyway.’ Harry laughed. ‘And I somehow doubt any girl would be saying no to you.’

‘Whether or not someone is attracted to me has no bearing on if they are ready to have sex yet, and being gay doesn’t mean I’d want to with just any guy either.’ Draco rolled over and propped himself up on his left arm as he glared at Harry.

‘You’d made it seem—’ 

‘I was just trying to irritate you. I was attempting to call your bluff. I didn’t really think you were going to agree to this.’

‘I thought it was expected.’

‘It’s expected that couples eventually have children, not that they start trying on their wedding night.’

‘Right, but we’re never going to have children. We couldn’t even if we wanted to. So, what? We have no reason to have sex?’

Draco groaned and buried his head into his pillow while he mumbled something.

‘What?’ Harry asked irritated.

‘You are so depressingly Muggle,’ Draco repeated louder.

‘What? It’s biologically impossible for two men to have babies.’

‘Yes, but we have magic! We can turn into other people, and we have wizards and witches that can change into animals, even ones as small as cats or beetles. We can age ourselves or make ourselves look young forever.’ Draco sighed. ‘You really think that we haven’t discovered something as simple as a gender changing potion? Especially when we already have polyjuice and gender isn’t an issue with that?’

‘But, polyjuice potion only lasts an hour.’

‘It only takes about an hour to conceive a baby.’ 

Harry looked even more horrified at that. ‘Wouldn’t the baby die after the man changed back?’ 

Draco laughed. ‘No, because . . . _magic_. Do we really need to have a discussion about having children on our first night of marriage? How about I’ll explain it if it ever comes up, and if not, you can ask Granger about it.’

Harry nodded and tried to think of anything else about men having babies. Suddenly, excited he asked, ‘What do you look like as a girl?’

‘What makes you think I know?’

Harry shrugged. ‘You knew about the potion. I thought there might have been a reason for it.’

‘There is a reason.’ 

Harry tried, yet failed, to contain his excitement at that statement, but Draco smirked which was always a bad sign. 

‘I paid attention in class.’ 

Harry rolled his eyes and then relaxed against the headboard, as he thought about the possibilities of the potion and was startled when Draco spoke again. 

‘I look a lot like my mother when she was younger, except you can tell that it’s me and not her.’ Draco snorted. ‘You know like how most children resemble their parents but are just not quite the same.’ Before Harry could ask why Draco continued, ‘I was questioning my sexuality at the time and knowing how dangerous it is to be me, I wasn’t about to go roaming around gay wizards’ clubs asking to get hurt. Plus, I didn’t want to embarrass my family any more than they already were, especially if I decided that I didn’t like men after all.’ 

Harry nodded to let Draco know that he was listening, or rather that he understood. 

‘So, I took the potion and roamed around straight pubs instead. And before you ask: No, I’ve never ran into you in any of them.’

Harry wasn’t going to ask; he hardly ever went out at all, and if he did, he went with Ginny.

‘Did you have sex with them?’

‘As a girl?’ Draco asked scandalised at the accusation. ‘Merlin, No! I did enough to realise that I do like men and stopped it there.’

‘How far was that?’ 

Draco glared at him. 

‘What? I’m not allowed to ask my spouse how far he’s gone with how many people? I’ll tell you.’

‘Like it’s any surprise. You’ve gone all the way with one person and probably only ever kissed just her as well.’ Draco smirked. ‘Well, until recently.’

‘Ginny’s not the only girl I’ve ever kissed.’ Harry blushed. ‘Pretty much, but not the _only_ girl. Cho and I snogged.’ 

Draco smirked, and Harry rolled his eyes. 

‘And… actually. I haven’t had sex with Ginny.’ 

Draco looked up in actual surprise at that. 

‘What?’ Harry asked.

‘Nothing I just assumed—you two have been together so long.’

‘Yes, and we probably would have, but we haven’t really had the chance.’ 

Draco looked at him in disbelief. 

‘In school we were busy, and I never felt comfortable doing things like that at the Burrow with her parents so close all the time.’ Harry waved Draco on. ‘So are you going to tell me?’

‘Fine,’ he huffed. ‘Since you were so honest, and I already told you my biggest secret anyway.’

‘Potioning into a girl is your biggest secret?’

‘Well… second biggest secret. From you anyway.’ 

Draco had a bigger secret than that? And Harry knew more about him than most people, apparently. 

‘Besides this really isn’t that big of a secret being that my father is who my father is.’ 

That confused Harry. 

‘It’s all about tradition, and my father has never been a very trusting man, you see. Nor has he ever been against using dark spells.’

‘Draco, what are you talking about?’

Draco sighed and rubbed his forehead. ‘Even if I had wanted to go farther with any of those guys I wouldn’t have been able to. Having sex before marriage would tarnish my family’s reputation, so before I was even old enough to know what sex was, my father had me do a spell with him. It’s sort of like the Unbreakable Vow, except I wouldn’t have died. It just made it that I couldn’t have sex before I was married, even if I tried.’

‘How did it stop you?’ Harry was disturbed by the entire idea; he was picturing Draco wriggling in pain or having his dick suddenly fall off. Though if he was a girl at the time that couldn’t have happened.

‘It’s actually kind of silly.’ Draco sat up and leaned against the headboard next to Harry as he prepared to tell the story.


	6. Alternative Motive

‘Silly?’ Harry asked. 

‘Well, you’ve heard of a chastity belt right?’

‘Yes…’ though with what he heard of them, they seemed rather disgusting, and he hoped that no one had ever had to actually endure one.

‘I think that it was supposed to be a play of words or rather this was what a real chastity belt was, and it got misinterpreted through the years. See, with magic you can make it that specific conditions have to be met for anything to happen. So, if I was in the room with anyone I couldn’t get my belt off. If I wasn’t wearing a belt then I just couldn’t remove my trousers and so on…’

‘What?’ Harry tried not to laugh at the image.

‘I told you it was silly.’

‘So when did you find about it?’

‘First year at Hogwarts,’ Draco said. ‘I’ve always had to shower alone. You have no idea what a difficult thing that is to accomplish until you have to. I had to wake up at four o’clock in the morning and lock the door behind me.’

Harry started to laugh. ‘Why? What would happen?’

‘If someone walked into the same room with me—even if they couldn’t see me, mind you—clothes would suddenly appear on my body. I thought Crabbe and Golye would never stop laughing when I walked into the dorm in soaking wet clothes that first time. Of course, then I couldn’t even change out of them, until I got everyone else out of the dorm.’ 

Harry was laughing to the point that his sides hurt just picturing Draco sopping wet and all his dorm mates laughing at him. He would’ve loved to be there at the time. 

‘I’m glad this is so amusing to you,’ Draco drawled clearly not appreciating Harry’s reaction.

‘Wait, you said first time? It happened more than once?’

‘I was a first year,’ Draco shrieked. ’Do you really think seventh years couldn’t get past my locking charms?’ Harry calmed down a bit as Draco’s face became sourer. He didn’t want to actually upset Draco.

‘So, I guess it really isn’t much of a secret that you’re a virgin then.’

‘No, not really.’

‘Is that why Pansy is so pissed that you married me?’

Draco smirked. ‘I’m sure that there are a lot of reasons, but that didn’t help it. After all, she was my most devoted researcher on how to get past it.’

Harry bit his lip and reached over to start unbuttoning Draco’s nightshirt. ‘So, if I was to get you naked, then I’d be the first person that ever got to see it?’

Draco’s breath hitched. ‘Since puberty: yes.’ 

Harry continued with the buttons, but then suddenly stilled. ‘I’m not the only one that you’ll ever be allowed to…’ He couldn’t bring himself to finish the question.

‘No! My father was a stickler for rules not a sadist.’

Harry gave him a look asking, “are you sure”.

‘It was only until I got married. After a legal divorce it won’t matter anymore.’

Harry nodded and continued with the last couple of buttons as he thought about what Draco had just said.

‘After a divorce?’ Harry asked. ‘Does that mean you can’t cheat on me?’ 

Draco turned a bit pink and looked away. 

‘You can’t, can you?’ 

‘Why do you think Ginny bothers me so much? It’s really important to me that you don’t cheat on me,’ Draco explained. ‘If we could agree to have an open relationship that would be one thing, but I can’t make an agreement like that.’

Harry smiled knowingly at Draco.

‘I knew you had to have some sort of alternative motive for all this.’

‘What?’ Draco snorted. ‘Beating you at something isn’t enough?’ 

‘No, I’m sure it would have been, but this fixes all your problems doesn’t it? After we get divorced, then you don’t have to worry about some stupid curse that is forcing you to be faithful to someone you have no interest in. You can marry some pureblooded witch that your parents pick for you, and then agree with her to live separate, discreet lives. And that’d leave you free to be gay with whoever you want.’ 

Harry was astonished at Draco’s perfect little plan. Either way he would win, which seemed just like the type of thing Draco would do.

‘You just have me all figured out don’t you?’ Draco leaned in closer to Harry.

‘I had you figured out years ago,’ Harry said smugly, before he kissed him and slid Draco’s shirt off.

Draco, once again, pushed his tongue into Harry’s mouth first. He slid down the headboard and onto his back in the middle of the bed as Harry slowly shifted on top of him, and then he dragged his hand across the light stubble that had grown over Harry’s face through the day. Harry moaned at the touch and could feel himself growing hard. When Draco turned to press his own erection against Harry’s, Harry suddenly stilled. In the midst of the teasing and snogging Harry had somehow forgotten whom he’d been kissing. Or rather he hadn’t forgotten that it was Draco; he’d forgotten that Draco was also a man, and therefore, he should have expected that, but it startled him. Harry pulled back, and Draco groaned in disappointment.

‘I’m sorry.’

Draco shook his head at the apology.

‘It’s alright. I’m used to stopping about here.’ 

Harry started to apologise again, but Draco placed his hand over his mouth. 

‘Harry, I don’t want you to do this, unless you’re comfortable with it. All right?’ 

He nodded and pulled himself off of Draco to lie beside him, but kept his arm wrapped around Draco’s waist as they both attempted the impossible task of sleeping while still half hard. The rest of the night was torture, but neither of them moved and eventually the exhaustion of the day brought them sleep.

#

When Harry woke up the next morning, Draco was already up and had ordered them breakfast to share in their room.

‘They sent coffee,’ Draco huffed as he continued to make his tea. ‘I asked for tea and everything they sent up was flavoured. They hadn’t realised they were out of Earl Grey, until I pointed it out to them. It just got here. The food is probably cold now.’ 

Harry rolled his eyes at Draco’s indignant expression and picked up a piece of bacon. Draco cast a warming charm on his food before he even attempted to taste it. Harry had assumed that Draco’s mother had planned out everything they would be doing for the weekend as she’d planned everything else. It turned out that she only planned their evenings. She had made dinner reservations at two of the most expensive restaurants in town and had bought tickets for a show on Broadway that night. Everything else was up to them, though maybe she had expected them to sleep until the afternoon and therefore, didn’t need plans until the evening. New York was the city that never sleeps, from what he’d heard of it.

Even though he thought Draco would never agree to it, he wanted to go to Central Park. To his surprise, Draco didn’t make a fuss and agreed, saying he was thankful Harry hadn’t wanted to explore the museums. Apparently, his mother loved museums and would take him through them constantly when he was younger. He didn’t care if it was a different museum; he didn’t want to go. 

So, in the afternoon they walked through the park and watched the people.

‘I suppose it is nice,’ Draco commented.

‘What is?’

‘Being anonymous,’ he answered as though it was completely obvious what he was referring to.

Harry smiled and nodded his agreement. He loved being anonymous. It was rare for him, and he guessed it was for Draco as well. Draco had always wanted all the attention he could get before. At least, Harry thought he had, but he could see how his feelings would change after so many years of the attention being negative. So, they walked through the park in silence, enjoying the peace around them and the lack of people staring at them. 

Well, occasionally someone would stare at Draco, but it wasn’t the judgmental stare that Harry usually saw on by passers’ faces when they looked at him. He was used to people staring at him in awe, nodding him thank you, or wanting to shake his hand.

This was completely different. No one noticed him next to Draco. Also, the only people that took any notice of Draco, were obviously more interested in what he looked like without any clothes than what his name was. 

Harry had never been very possessive. He felt that for relationships to work, you had to trust each other. Maybe no one ever dared to check out Ginny in front of him because of who he was, or he never noticed because he knew she would never cheat on him. Though, Draco was incapable of cheating on him, Harry could see the interest in his eyes when an attractive man would look him up and down. 

He had to resist the urge to grab Draco’s hand and glare down the more attractive competition. Harry pondered whether the men could just tell that Harry wasn’t gay and therefore, assumed Draco was single, or if they just simply didn’t care that Harry was there. 

The women didn’t bother him that much.

#

They walked to the restaurant that they had reservations at that evening, and it was quite possibly the nicest one Harry had ever entered. He’d taken Ginny to plenty of fine restaurants, but he always felt more at ease at home. It wasn’t any better with Draco. He felt out of place not only in his surroundings, but also in his attire and company. It didn’t help that he didn’t understand half of the menu, and their waiter turned out to be bent himself. Which became the waiter talking exclusively to Draco, ignoring him, and Draco ordering for Harry.

If the food turned out to be edible at all Harry would be grateful to Draco for at least that. He wouldn’t have been able to take the condescending look he was sure to get from the waiter, if he had attempted to order anything off the menu himself.

‘I’m sorry’, Harry said as he calmed himself down once the waiter left. Draco looked up at him perplexed. Then Harry slowly reached across the table to take Draco’s hand, which only confused him more, but Draco allowed it. ‘For the thing with Ginny at our reception.’

‘Why?’

‘I could overlook the guys at the park, but here we are obviously together.’ Harry glared at the back of their waiter as he helped other customers. Draco kept his face still as he took in what Harry was saying. ‘I understand what you meant about respect now.’

‘I’ve never thought of you as the jealous type.’

‘I’m not,’ Harry said. ‘It is just rather insulting when you are obviously with someone and people just dismiss you as though you aren’t there. Like I’m not a threat at all, and they could just slip you a note to meet them in the loo.’

‘And what would you do if they did?’ 

Harry didn’t have an answer that, as they were interrupted by the waiter before he could think of one. From that moment on, Draco made sure to be touching Harry in one way or another throughout the rest of the meal. Afterwards, they headed for the show. Harry had never been to any theatre before and was surprised how much he actually enjoyed it. 

Draco seemed bored, but Draco always seemed bored. 

When Harry asked him about it, he assured him he did enjoy the show.

‘Not everyone wears their heart on their sleeve.’

‘It’s hard to believe you have any emotions sometimes,’ Harry said, then added, ‘Well, other than anger. I thought that was the only thing you could feel other than contempt, when we were in school.’ 

Draco rolled his eyes at that. ‘I was rather angry with you in school.’

‘ _Only_ me?’

‘How do you know that I wasn’t perfectly pleasant when you weren’t around?’ 

Harry blushed and looked off to the side avoiding Draco’s gaze, but kept in step with Draco. 

‘Oh, how could I forget? How often did you stalk me then?’ Draco smirked, but continued, leaving the questions rhetorical. ‘You should know I wasn’t always angry then.’ 

Harry smiled at that. ‘Like I said, contempt.’ 

They kept silent for a few minutes as they walked down the street. It was cool enough for coats, but not so cold that it would bother him. It was just the beginning of fall, and the type of weather that Harry liked the best. Yet, Draco wrapped his coat tighter around himself and he crossed his arms as though he had just caught a chill. 

‘I know that it’s impossible for anyone to only feel two emotions,’ Harry said. ‘In fact, you know, I’ve seen more than that. It’s just what I’m most familiar with when it comes to you.’

Draco stopped walking and opened his mouth, as though he was going to say something, but then decided not to. He shook his head and then nodded in the opposite direction of their hotel.

‘Would you like to get ice cream? Unless, you really feel like getting back.’ 

Harry smiled. He wasn’t really that tired, and they had skipped the idea of dessert at the restaurant earlier. The best thing about the city was that you could go get ice cream whenever you wanted. It was nearing two in the morning, and yet they could still sit inside a restaurant, near Times Square, and eat ice cream. When he would sneak out of his aunt’s house in Surrey everything seemed so dead. All the neighbours asleep, it was rather peaceful. That all changed when you got to a city. There was always so much life, even after dark, in them. 

They got back in too late for them to even bother with a bedtime routine or conversation. Then they slept in until past noon the next day. Harry thought it wasn’t that bad of a honeymoon really. Though not how he had imagined it. He’d imagined a honeymoon to be filled with sex and not include many activities outside of that, not even dinner. Though he never imagined one with Draco either, so he was thankful for the other activities that took up their time. It did give them a chance to be alone together as a couple before they had to deal with everyone and everything else in their life as a couple.

That was the whole point of a honeymoon anyway, right?

#

‘Alright, mate?’ Ron asked as he approached Harry in the training room.

‘Never better,’ Harry answered honestly.

‘Really?’ Ron seemed surprised by his answer. ‘How was the honeymoon?’

‘Great, actually.’

Ron paled. ‘What?’ 

Harry smiled, but didn’t elaborate. He could get used to this torturing Ron with suggestion thing, even if he and Draco weren’t actually doing anything together. 

‘What did you do?’ Ron turned red and sputtered, ‘I mean . . . where did you go?’

Harry laughed. Oh yes, he could certainly get used to it.

‘We went to New York.’ 

A classmate named Jones joined them, before Ron could ask another question.

‘Hey, Harry,’ Jones said, ‘Can you believe what...’ Ron started waving his arms beside Harry in a not so subtle gesture for Jones not to continue that train of thought. ‘Err...what they are having us do for training?’ Jones finished lamely obviously perplexed and not used to coming up with lies quickly.

‘What’s going on?’ Harry directed the question at Ron. ‘What’s wrong?’

’Nothing,’ Ron said quickly. ‘Why would anything be wrong?’ 

Harry turned back to Jones, who shrugged his shoulders, and noticed the _Prophet_ in his hand.

‘Jones,’ Harry gestured towards the paper. ‘I didn’t get mine this morning. I must not have notified them that I’ve moved.’ Harry gave Ron a questioning look that didn’t deter him from jumping in front of Harry, and stopping Jones from handing over the paper.

‘Why would you want to read that Harry?’ Ron gently tried to guide him in the opposite direction. ‘It’s always filled with lies, anyway. You should really cancel your subscription. In fact, I will, too. Just as soon as I get home today. Really horrible reporters. They have no idea what news is.’ 

The more Ron went on the more nervous Harry got. What had they written about him now? He had to see that paper. 

‘Besides, you don’t have time for that now.’ Ron pointed out as Harry tried to get past him to Jones and the newspaper. ‘Training is about to start.’

Sure enough, their instructor had just walked through the door. The paper would have to wait. It was all he could think about that day. What did it say? Did everyone in that room know about it except him? Probably. Yet, no one was looking at him with disgust. So, either it wasn’t about his recent marriage, or same sex marriage isn’t that big of a deal in their world. He wasn’t sure what he was hoping for. Was what they wrote that much worse than the truth? Since no one was treating him any different, it couldn’t be that bad. Right?

He could tell that Ron hoped he’d forgotten about it during their training. It had been a long day, but people “knew” things about him that he didn’t. He had to know. Jones was long gone as soon as the day ended. Still there had to be a newspaper around somewhere. Ron got him out of the ministry and to a pub in record time. They normally hung around and talked for a while before they headed out. He had either forgotten or hoped to get Harry to drink enough, so that he would forget that the pub sold copies of the newspaper.

As Ron got them pints, Harry found what he was looking for. 

Of course, it was on the front page. 

Everything to do with him did. He didn’t even have to read the paper, the pictures said it all. He read every word, anyway. Ginny was wrapped around some bloke in a collage of pictures. He was a Quidditch player, and there were even pictures of them practicing together. Harry wasn’t mentioned in the article once. There was not one scathing comment about him, and he wasn’t even mentioned as her ex. Though, as far as anyone knew, he was still with her.

‘Mate?’ Ron asked with concern in his voice, as Harry stared silently and a bit in shock at the paper.

‘They didn’t mention me?’

Ron laughed. ‘Did you want them to?’

‘No! Of course, not.’ Ah, there was the anger. ‘I just can’t believe Rita didn’t use this against me.’

‘Draco did say he’d keep you out of the papers. Isn’t that why you did that barmy interview for?’

‘Yes, but he said he’d keep _us_ out of the paper, not _me_.’ Harry looked over the pictures again. He had expected this. Foreseen it even when Ginny proposed they “take a break”. It was why he was so adamant that they should stay together. They’d only fool around when they got _lonely_ she said. But how’d she get _lonely_ so quickly? He kept telling himself it would have happened anyway or eventually no matter what he did. Yet there was also the feeling that she might not have so quickly if he hadn’t married Draco. 

‘I need a drink.’ 

Ron gestured towards the pint that sat in front of him, but Harry shook his head at it. 

‘Something stronger.’

Hours later they stumbled out of the pub. They swayed back and forth a bit as they walked down the street.

‘You’re the best mate, mate,’ Harry slurred. ‘I never should’ve dated your sister. How could I do that to you? Now I’ve put you in an uncomfer, uncomfort...able situ... situation.’

‘You’ve put me in a lot of uncomfortable situations before.’ Ron chuckled.

‘Yeah.’ Harry laughed as well. ‘But this is differ . . . different. This is your family. I mean . . . how? I expected you to be more upset about what I did. You wanted to kill Dean just because he dated her. Yet with me, you just shrugged it off. You trusted me not to hurt her. Then I did.’

‘You’re looking a bit worse off than she is.’ Ron sighed. ‘Okay.’ He paused and took a deep breath. ‘At the time I figured that I knew you, and I knew you would never hurt her. You would never hurt anybody. She’d liked you forever, and I knew she’d be happy with you.’ 

They’d finally gotten to the closest Floo and stopped. Harry nodded once he saw where Ron had taken him. Apparition was probably a bad idea.

‘Now, well, I’ve grown up. I know that it’s never just one person’s fault when things fall apart. Besides, you’re the one hurting here, not her.’ Ron grabbed a handful of floo powder. ‘Are you going home, or do you want to stay with us tonight?’

‘I don’t think I should wake Draco up. I’ll just sleep on your couch.’


	7. Divorce Isn't An Option

In the morning, Harry came through the Floo into his den, hungover and tired. Draco sat with his head in his hands on their leather couch and looked up to glare at Harry as he stumbled forward out of the fireplace.

‘Where in the bleeding hell have you been?’ 

‘What?’ Harry asked. He was _not_ in the mood to deal with Draco and his expectations and his rules right then. ‘I have to let you know where I go every second of every day? I’m an adult. I don’t need a babysitter.’

‘Did it ever occur to you that I might have been worried about you?’

Harry gave a dry, mocking laugh. ‘Don’t pretend to care about me.’

Draco glare became more severe. ‘It’s the day after our honeymoon.’ Though he never raised his voice, Harry still felt as though he were being yelled at. Reprimanded as though he were a small child. ‘You didn’t say a word to me in the morning, you never came home, you could have been anywhere.’

Harry sighed, exhausted with the whole thing. Draco didn’t care about Harry, what did it matter? 

‘You could have been attacked,’ Draco continued, surprising Harry with the train of thought he’d taken. ‘Or gotten drunk and Splinched yourself. Or arrested for attacking that Mark fellow.’

‘Who’s Mark?’ Harry asked as he rubbed his forehead willing his headache to allow him to think for a moment. He didn’t know how to deal with Draco being worried about him. He wasn’t functional enough to tell how serious Draco was about it, but it would be wrong to dismiss his feelings if they were genuine. 

It was true; any of those things could have happened.

‘The guy the ginger bint is shagging now—’

And a few of them might have come close to happening. 

‘Oh,’ Harry said, comprehension finally sinking in. ‘That’s what you’re worried about, isn’t it? That’d I’d gone back to Ginny!’ She was the whole point of the bet. If going back to her would have fixed it all, then Harry would have done it.

‘I have every right to worry about that. I am your spouse.’

Harry turned back to the Floo. He was done with the conversation, with the whole stupid bet that had ruined everything for him. He grabbed some Floo powder.

‘You can’t leave me, or you lose the bet!’ 

Turning to face him, Harry said in slight disbelief, ‘This is obviously not working.’

Draco snorted. ‘Do you think that after the first fight, we’d just get to file for divorce? Or did you forget that divorce isn’t an option with arranged marriages? It wouldn’t matter that I’d never met my wife before we got married. I could never divorce her. She couldn’t leave, either. We’d have to find a way to figure it out. So, if you leave, then you lose.’

‘I’ve already lost.’ Harry’s fist clenched tighter around the Floo powder. ‘You read the paper, I’m sure.’

‘That would have happened anyway, and you know it. Don’t blame that on this.’

‘Well, fine! That means you were right then. We weren’t right for each other. It was just lust and whatever else you’d said. Why continue this?’

Draco sneered. ‘The “whatever else” I’d said was that I’d be better for you than her, that we’d learn to love each other, and you still don’t believe any of it. You still don’t believe that she was leaving you, even though she’s already moved on. You don’t—’ 

Harry faced the Floo, again, and Draco stopped talking. Harry’s shaky breath filled the silence, before he said, ‘I’m not leaving. I’m just going to work.’

‘And after work?’

‘I’ll come home.’

#

‘There’s a ministry function that I have to go to next weekend,’ Harry said as he was getting into bed a few weeks later.

‘Oh.’

‘You said you should go anywhere I would have taken Ginny.’ 

Draco nodded. 

‘But if you come with me in public, it’ll start rumours. So, I figured I’d go alone.’ 

Draco thought for a long time before he spoke.

‘No, I’ll go with.’

‘What? Really?’

‘Part of your spouse’s job is to help you get through these affairs. How can I do that if I’m not there?’

‘But—’

‘Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of everything.’ 

Harry laughed. ‘How much money do you spend shutting people up? There are going to be hundreds of people there.’ 

Draco smirked.

‘Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it.’

#

‘Mother, do you remember that dress you had made for the banquet you never went to when I was thirteen?’

Narcissa raised an eyebrow at him. It was times like this that she knew without a doubt that her son was gay. She barely remembered the dress. Though she did remember having the flu, which made it where she wasn’t able to attend the banquet. 

‘I was wondering if I could borrow it, and maybe have it altered a bit.’

‘Of course, darling. Who do you need it for?’

‘Harry has to go to a function for the Ministry. A celebration of two years of peace, or something like that.’ 

He deliberately avoided the question, which gave her the answer. Draco wasn’t as good at hiding things from her as he thought he was. She took a breath and then a sip of her tea before she calmly clasped her hands together in her lap.

‘Are you sure that’s wise?’ 

To her surprise, he smirked at her.

‘I’m married now, mother. You aren’t supposed to tell me what to do anymore.’ 

Draco walked around to the chair opposite his mother’s, with the small round end table separating them, and sat down.

‘I’m not telling you anything. I’m merely suggesting that you might not get what you want out of this.’ 

He didn’t agree nor disagree with her, which was disagreement enough for her. Had he agreed with her, or at least pretended to, he would have said so. 

‘If this does goad him into acting, will it be worth it? You can’t be her forever. You don’t want that.’

‘I want him,’ Draco said, forcefully.

‘I thought we had been through this the last time I caught you with that potion,’ she said more to herself than him.

‘That was different,’ he insisted.

‘How?’

‘Those were strangers, and you were right it was dangerous. I had no way to protect myself from them. I could’ve gotten hurt.’ 

She hadn’t meant that he would _only_ get physically hurt. It was more the emotional damage that she was afraid of, both then and now. He was always like that, even as a child. Almost as if he was trying to hurt himself. When he knew his father would never take him to the ministry, he would still ask to go. After it was clear that he wasn’t going to make it to their planned Quidditch time, he would still sit outside and wait for him for hours. Lucius thought that playing instruments was for the poor, except the piano which was for women. So, naturally the only instrument in the house was a piano, and Draco taught himself to play at a very young age. 

He said it was because he enjoyed it, but Narcissa thought it was his way of rebelling. Or maybe he played as punishment for his father’s broken promises. He always seemed to play after Lucius didn’t show up when he was supposed to.

When she had first found the remains of the potion when Draco was fifteen, she wasn’t sure if it was like the piano or something more. Though in retrospect maybe they were the same, and the piano had always been something more. 

Perhaps, he really did just enjoy playing.

‘I don’t want you to get hurt. It’s a mother thing.’

‘I won’t,’ Draco assured her. 

She didn’t feel very reassured, though. She felt that he already had been hurt too much for her ever to fix, and he would just continue to hurt himself over and over again.

‘Leila,’ Narcissa called.

‘Yes, mistress.’ A young house elf popped out of nowhere to reply.

‘Could you get the dress that Draco described earlier? You do know where it is?’

‘Of course, mistress.’

She looked back toward her son. ‘I’d say be careful with it, except, I doubt I’ll ever need it back.’ 

Draco smiled at her and raised to kiss her on the cheek. Leila returned and handed the dress over to Draco.

‘I’m sure you’ll have many reasons to dress up soon.’

‘Since when do I need a reason?’ She joked as she gestured down to the dress she wore then. She always dressed as though she was on her way to a ball when she was just wondering around the house with nothing to do. ‘When you’re old and rich, you’re allowed to be eccentric. I merely meant that I have enough dresses. I’m not going to miss one. Especially one that I’ve never bothered to wear. It’s too revealing for someone my age, anyway.’

#

‘And how exactly are you bringing Draco with you and keeping your marriage secret?’ Hermione inquired. She hadn’t even pretended to be listening to the conversation that he was having with Ron before that statement. It was a bit scary how she was able to be engrossed in a book, or three, and still be conscious of everything going on around her. ‘I mean, even if Rita is being good in hopes to get more articles out of you, there will still be hundreds of people there who will see you.’

‘Just because Malfoy happens to be there doesn’t mean that he came with Harry,’ Ron said. ‘No one would know that.’

‘No, but they would notice if they spend a lot of time together throughout the evening. If Draco doesn’t plan to stand with Harry all evening, I don’t see the point of him going. He isn’t well liked by most of the people that will be there.’

‘I don’t know. He said he’d take care of it.’ It was all Harry could think to say. Draco wouldn’t give him any other answer, and he’d repeatedly asked until Draco was so annoyed that he almost hexed him. ‘Look, everyone that matters to me already knows. I’m not that worried about strangers finding out. He is the one who seems to think it’s important now. As long as the ministry doesn’t try to use it for a campaign against me.’

‘Which is highly unlikely now,’ Ron pointed out to Hermione. ‘With Lord Voldemort dead and all.’

‘Right.’ Harry laughed then continued, ’then I don’t really see what the big deal is about.’ 

Hermione shrugged.

‘I never saw what the “big deal” was about before, but you kept saying that it had to be a secret, and we weren’t allowed to tell _anybody or say anything_.’

‘Before, I didn’t want to hurt Ginny by having to see it all the time. Now, I hardly think it matters.’ 

Hermione rolled her eyes. ’

‘What?’ Harry asked with a sigh.

‘You didn’t expect her to sit around for two years while you were married to someone else, did you?’ 

Harry started to say that he wasn’t really married, and it was just a bet, but Hermione didn’t pause. 

‘Especially since she broke up with you before she left for that very reason. She wanted you both to date other people. She said that you two will get back together in two years when she comes back. That’s what you said would happen after this bet ends. She might not even be serious about this Mark fellow. It’s probably just a fling.’

‘She still hasn’t written to me,’ Harry said. If it was just a fling, why was she still avoiding him?

‘Have you written to her?’ 

Harry glared at the ground but didn’t answer. 

‘Well, then I hardly think you’re the one to talk. Also, it’s not like you’re alone. You’ve got Draco, and quit acting like you’ve never touched.’

‘We haven’t done anything,’ Harry insisted, and for the most part, it was true. They hadn’t done anything since the honeymoon, and then, they didn’t get very far. He didn’t know how to do anything more with Draco. They were finally starting to get comfortable in each other’s presence, but not in the same way he was comfortable with Ginny. With Ginny, he could just walk up and put his arms around her or kiss her. 

Though, he didn’t have to, because most of the time she did it.

He was used to Draco’s presence when he was at home and even in his bed. Not enough to reach out and touch him, but enough that it would have felt weird if he wasn’t there. He had grown used to hearing Draco get up and shower and move around the room, while he was still half asleep and laying in bed. 

Draco was always completely ready to walk out the floo before he sat down for breakfast. Harry always ate first before he showered and dressed to leave. It helped him wake up. It worked out well because then they both ate breakfast together. Draco always read every inch of the newspaper, every morning. Harry only skimmed through it, so he spent most of the breakfast time watching Draco read. He’d tried to get Draco to talk about what he was reading, but that seemed just to irritate him. 

It still wasn’t the same, though. He wasn’t in love with Draco, and Harry didn’t care what Hermione said: it looked like much more than a fling in the pictures.

#

Harry did not know what he had expected from Draco, but based on previous conversations, he really should have seen it coming.

Ron and Hermione came by their house so that they could all Floo to the banquet together. Harry always felt more at ease when they were with him during public gatherings. He was used to having Hermione to fall back on when he got into sticky situations or didn’t know what to say. She commented earlier that day that it was Draco’s responsibility then. Harry didn’t like that idea.

Even if Harry had an idea of what Draco had planned, he still wouldn’t have been prepared for when he saw Draco walking down the stairs. Hermione was the first to notice. She stopped mid-sentence as she stared up the stairs. Ron, who noticed her silence, looked to she what had caused her reaction, and his jaw went slightly slack as well. Harry turned after he saw the change in his friends’ behaviour. 

No one could deny that the Malfoys were attractive. Even those who hated them were aware of that. It was obvious that the girl walking down the stairs was a Malfoy. She looked just as he had described her to Harry. A younger version of Mrs Malfoy with a pointier face that was obviously Draco. Draco smirked at the looks on all their faces, and there was no doubt it was him.

She wore a silver, backless dress that reached the floor. It tied around her neck with a chain of what appeared to be diamonds. Had Ron and Hermione not been in shock, they might have been insulted by his extravagance. 

If Harry wasn’t so impressed, he might have been as well. 

It would be hard for anyone to think of “Draco Malfoy” when they were looking at the girl in front of them.

‘This isn’t going to work,’ Harry said. ‘Who will we say you are?’

‘Daisy, of course.’

‘You know what I mean.’

‘I have to disagree, Harry,’ Hermione said. ‘No one who knows Draco very well is going to be there, except us.’

It was too obvious when looking in the girl’s, Daisy’s, eyes, but Hermione was right. Who else would be there that had spent much time staring into Draco’s eyes? 

Harry fidgeted as they entered the hall. _Daisy_ rolled her eyes and smirked at the frightened look on his face. Hermione and Ron were separated from them almost immediately by one of Hermione’s co-workers. His wife just _had_ to meet her, since she was all her husband talked about. Ron never left Hermione’s side during any function. Probably for the same reason her co-worker’s wife had to meet her. 

It didn’t take more that a few minutes for Harry to be bombarded as well.

He hated events like those. It was like the dinner with Malfoy’s mother only worse, because there was a lot more focus on him. Daisy wasn’t shy at all and conversed easily with whoever came to greet them. No one failed to complement Daisy, either; on her looks or her attire for the evening. Everyone wanted to know how they met. She easily made up a lie about being lost, and Harry helping her find her way while she was shopping for a dress. 

They even believed her when she claimed not to have known who Harry was until later. The story reminded Harry a little too much of the first time they actually had met. Draco had not known who Harry was. Whether or not Draco was trying to be friendly at the time, he was still a prat. Harry had no reason to feel guilty about that day. Yet he did after hearing how he met Daisy over and over again. He wanted to punch the next person that asked. He didn’t, though.

‘Harry,’ Kingsley called out as he went to greet him. ‘Who is the lovely lady you have with you? I don’t believe I’ve seen you around.’ He took Daisy’s hand gently and kissed it. Harry said nothing and didn’t even remember to smile as he waited for her to hex his boss for being so forward. 

Except Daisy didn't and acted as though people kissed her hand all the time.

‘Daisy,’ she responded. ‘And I don’t get out much. I suffer from over protective parents.’

‘Oh, they can be dreadful. Though, I’m sure they know you are in capable hands.’

‘They do.’ Daisy winked at him. ‘Or I’d still be locked in my tower.’

Harry watched them continue their pointless and fake conversation and waited for the night to be over. Until he noticed how Daisy kept inching towards him, and Kingsley kept finding reasons to brush up against her.

‘I can’t believe she expects everyone to believe that. Him with a woman her age? She obviously pays him.’ Harry looked up and saw that they were looking across the room at a couple. The woman in question was on the Wizengamot. Did she just say that?

‘Ah, age doesn’t mean anything. You would be surprised how much age makes it better.’

Daisy looked surprised for about a second before she smiled again and responded, ‘I’ll have to remember that.’ 

Were they flirting? Harry judged by Kingsley slight blush and Daisy’s evil smirk that they were. He grabbed her arm and pulled her back and away from his boss.

‘Excuse us, sir.’

‘I hate people,’ Draco said after they were out of earshot from Harry’s boss, but before Harry had a chance to yell at him. ‘Had I said that as myself, he would have fought with me. Instead, he flirted with me.’ Daisy rolled her eyes and walked over to get a drink. Harry followed and decided it was time he had one himself.

‘I can’t believe you were insulting people.’

‘That was not an insult. It was a speculation.’

‘It was gossip.’ 

Daisy looked down at her dress then back up at Harry, raised her left eyebrow and laughed.

‘I’m a girl. It’s expected.’ She snorted. ‘Accepted, at least.’

‘Hermione—’ Harry started, but Draco scoffed and rolled Daisy’s eyes.

‘You can’t a judge how women typically act by Granger.’

‘She’s a girl.’

‘Who’s trying her damnedest to be thought of as anything but.’

‘She is not!’ Harry looked around to make sure no one heard his outburst and then lowered his voice. ‘Like you have any room to talk. You’re trying to be a girl.’ 

Draco glared at him but didn’t say anything as he brushed passed him.

‘Draco, wait.’

‘Fuck you.’ 

Daisy disappeared, and Harry was soon trapped in an endless conversation with a very important somebody, that he couldn’t bother to remember the name of. He just agreed with whatever was said as he scanned the room and hoped to find her.

‘The girl you brought is rather fit. Is she your cousin or something?’ 

Harry suddenly didn’t like this important somebody. He didn’t know if it was the reminder, once again, of how attractive Draco was, or the automatic assumption, also again, that Harry wasn’t good enough for her; therefore, they couldn’t possibly be together.

‘She’s my fiancé.’ Harry glared at the man who, he then realised, was more of a dashing young man, oppose to the older, bald, obviously married, men, that he was used to being forced into conversations with. ‘That reminds me. I should go find her.’


	8. Sleep On It

Harry didn’t see her anywhere in the ballroom, so he left the Great Hall and started down the first walkway he saw. Daisy was easy to locate, because she went into the first unlocked room she found. It turned out to be an office. She was sitting in a wingback chair with her face in her hands. 

Even at the doorway, Harry could tell she was crying.

‘Have you been in here the entire time?’ Harry walked up beside her and put a hand on her shoulder. It didn’t take Harry very long to get over Draco’s comments, and he felt bad about what he had said.

‘Fuck off.’ 

Harry came around and knelt in front of her.

‘Are you okay?’

‘I said fuck off. I’m fine. I’m not upset.’ 

Harry couldn’t stop himself, and he let out a small laugh.

‘You’re crying,’ Harry pointed out. 

Daisy let out a frustrated half growl, half screech which seemed to only irritate her even more. ‘It’s this bloody body,’ she said as she tried to calm down. ‘If I was myself I’d be hexing everyone, instead I’m crying because I am _angry_.’ She clenched her hands into fists, and Harry backed away slightly. ‘This is so frustrating. I hate not being able to control this.’

‘So, you’re still angry with me?’

‘Yes, and every bloody witch and wizard out there.’ 

Harry looked confused.

‘After I left you, I did what I always do when I’m mad. I, as you like to call it, _insult_ people. It makes me feel better.’ 

Harry snorted, which made Daisy glare at him more. ‘I’m not exactly quiet when I’m upset. A few people heard me.’

‘What did they say?’ Harry expected that Daisy was probably verbally attacked, but she probably deserved it for what ever she said.

‘They thought I was funny.’

‘Then why are you upset?’ Harry asked even more confused than before.

‘You are so dim.’ Daisy shook her head at Harry almost sympathetically. ‘Everyone hates me. I have to constantly hold my tongue and never say what I want to, because it is always taken the  
wrong way. When I’m in a pretty girl’s body, I can say whatever I want, even when it is taken the wrong way no one cares, and they still love her.’ 

Harry took her hands and rubbed his thumbs over the back of them in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. 

‘I hate them, _because_ they are being nice to her. And no one is ever nice to me.’

Harry didn’t understand it. Wasn’t that why Draco had used the potion in the first place? He knew people would react to her differently than to himself. That was why Draco used the potion to met people when he was younger. Harry hated it when people cried. He wasn’t very good at giving comfort. He was never comforted as a child when he needed it, so as he got older he felt awkward when others would try to comfort him.

He lifted Daisy’s chin and pulled her mouth to his. She hesitated at first, but gave in. After a few minutes, they both forgot she had been crying at all.

#

Harry shoved her up against the bedroom wall as soon as they were in it. He anchored her there with his mouth pressed firmly against hers. Daisy pushed back just as forcefully with her mouth, but pulled Harry’s body close to her own. Harry pulled up on her dress, as Daisy—with a quick flick of her wrist made—Harry’s shirt and trousers disappear.

They were on the bed, Harry pining Daisy down and kissing her neck. 

She laughed. ‘You can’t use magic to take off my clothes, but you use it to move us three feet?’

‘I wasn’t trying to take off your dress.’ Harry ran his hand up her thigh and in between her legs, which caused Daisy to jump.

‘Wait. Stop!’ 

‘What?’ Harry pulled back and looked up at her face. ‘Did I hurt you?’ 

‘No, I don’t want to go that far.’ Daisy looked away from him. ‘Not when I’m like this.’

‘Oh.’ Harry knew that. They had talked about it before, but he couldn’t help but feel disappointed.

‘We don’t have to stop. Only don’t go down there.’ 

Harry groaned and buried his face in the crook in her neck. 

‘Are you okay? I mean are you in pain?’

‘Not yet, but I will be.’ It was their honeymoon all over again.

Draco smirked and reached to take off Harry’s pants. ‘I can help you with that.’ They kissed slowly as Draco worked Harry off, and then they laid together not saying anything. Harry played with Daisy’s long hair, while she ran the tips of his finger around the defined edges of the muscles in Harry’s arm. Harry shifted and pushed himself up to look down at Draco and smiled.

‘You are so beautiful.’ He leaned down and kissed her lips one more time, before he laid back down to go to sleep.

#

Only a few tears escaped Draco’s eyes, but he couldn’t blame it on the foreign body he was in.

Any other compliment would have been better when he was her. It would have been the perfect moment any other day. Any other day which Harry was looking at him instead of her.

The same girl, that everyone liked better than him.

#

Harry smiled.

‘What are you happy about?’ Ron asked. 

Harry continued to smile as he responded with a shrug. 

Ron fell into step beside him in a way that only someone with years of practice could do. He seemed unsatisfied with his friend’s answer, even though he said nothing about it, but Ron could read the expression on his face.

‘Am I happier than normal?’

‘I don’t normally see you smile this early in the morning.’ 

Ron was used to Harry’s forlorn expression at any time of the day. Most of his life he had little to be happy about, but then, when everything was good, Harry’s outlook stayed the same. Everyone else celebrated for the past year and lived with reckless abandon, but Harry treated it like a year of mourning. Ron and Hermione never said anything about it, because he always took loss harder than they did. He had little to begin with, so it hurt more to lose what he had.

Yet, Harry also was easily excited by the world around him. 

Many times Ron saw the same boy Harry used to be in his first year at Hogwarts when they learnt something new. Therefore, Ron was used to seeing Harry energetic and excited by their first break. But that look was something different. It was the look Harry had when he drank the Felix Felicis potion in their sixth year.

‘I suppose, I’m just excited to get to training.’

‘Right,’ Ron agreed disbelievingly. He became even more suspicious, when Harry skipped lunch to go “shopping”. When he returned, he was equally as pleased with himself. Harry hated to go shopping. He never liked the attention he got, and he found it difficult to express what he wanted to sales people. He never went shopping alone. Unless, he was buying something he knew no one else would approve of. Something like the engagement ring for Ginny after she had broke it off with him.

‘What?’ Harry asked once he noticed Ron scrutinising him.

‘You are acting odd,’ Ron said.

‘Really? How is that?’ 

Ron chose to ignore Harry’s attempt at pretending to be thick and decided to get straight to the point.

‘What did you buy?’

‘I just got Draco a gift.’ 

Maybe, Harry was thick. Ron raised an eyebrow in question, but Harry ignored it. He was deliberately avoiding Ron’s eyes, which meant that he was embarrassed about it. Either he was embarrassed about what he decided to buy, or that he wanted to buy it in the first place. Ron never pictured Harry buying anything that was embarrassing, or, at least, he hoped his friend would never do such a thing. 

‘It’s to thank him for going to the party the other night.’

Ron grimaced as he thought about what Harry might have bought him. It was probably hard to find potions ingredients, if Harry knew enough about that to pick the right ones. Malfoy was probably bleeding difficult to buy for. Ron was tempted to ask what he had bought, but out of fear it was something personal, he kept his mouth shut. Harry continued the facade that there was nothing going on between him and Malfoy. Ron was inclined to believe him, but Hermione called him naive if he really thought they hadn’t. 

She knew about those things, so Ron quit arguing with her and hoped Harry was telling the truth. If Harry had wanted to talk about it, he would have asked Ron’s opinion or told him about it without him asking. Since Harry was secretive about it most of the day, it was most likely something Ron didn’t want to know about. He nodded to Harry to show that he understood, even though he did not understand whatsoever at all.

#

Harry’s excitement about his gift diminished once he presented it to Draco. Draco seemed startled when Harry handed him the box, but recovered, then opened it with a questioning look on his face. He couldn’t tell if Draco was excited or not.

His face held what looked to Harry like a suppressed smirk, which it lost as soon as he saw what the box held. Harry cursed himself for not asking Hermione’s opinion before he went looking for something for him. It was a quick decision to buy him something, and he only had an hour to figure out what it would be.

‘You hate it,’ Harry said. ‘I’m horrible at this.’ 

Draco had yet to lift his eyes from the offending gift and offered no response. 

‘I noticed at the dinner that all the women wore huge necklaces, rings and such.’ Harry shifted feet nervously as Draco finally looked at him. ‘I realised that you were the only one that didn’t have anything like that. I thought you’d appreciate it.’

‘It’s lovely,’ Draco finally said, then placed the lid back on the box and walked around his desk to return to his chair. 

He had been busy writing in something when Harry arrived. Draco was always in his office for a few hours after he returned home.

‘You don’t have to lie. I can tell that you hate it.’ Draco would always think Harry had horrible taste.

‘Harry,’ Draco said sternly, though he picked up a quill and concentrated on the parchment in front of him. ‘I said, it is lovely.’

‘But, you don’t mean it.’ He never saw Draco be so polite without hiding something.

‘I do. My mother would love it.’

‘I didn’t buy it for you mother.’

‘I know,’ Draco sighed and leaned back in his chair. ‘Can we just forget about it.’ 

Harry debated about it while trying and failing to catch Draco’s eyes.

‘What do you want from me?’ Harry asked, for he at a loss as to what he was supposed to do. Was it not normal for him to buy his significant other gifts? He thought Draco, of all people, would love to be showered with gifts. From shopping with him before, Harry knew that he liked shiny things. After taking one look at their entryway, or living room, anyone would know that.

‘What do you mean?’ Draco looked up at Harry with a glare.

‘I mean that I’m trying here. And you won’t tell me what I did wrong.’ 

‘I find it hard to understand how you could not know.’ Draco grit out as his glare intensified. He gripped his quill tighter, and it caused the tips of his fingers to become paler than the rest of his hand.

‘You sound like a girl.’ Harry’s arms dropped to his sides in exasperation. ‘I _can’t_ read your mind.’ It was true. All the women he knew seemed to believe he constantly used legilimency on them. He was never good at it or he would start. They always made things difficult for him expecting him to know things he couldn’t possibly know.

‘I’m not a bloody girl,’ Draco growled. ‘I thought you understood that.’

‘I do,’ Harry said, confused.

‘No, you don’t.’ Draco stood and walked around his desk towards Harry. ‘I am a homosexual man. That does not mean that I want to be a girl. I love being a man. I just happen to also want to be with men.’

‘I know.’ Harry did know that. Draco had said before, and Harry understood that. He simply thought that since Draco said he would transform whenever they went out, that he would want something for his other body. He had more than enough clothing and accessories for him to wear as himself.

Draco shook his head at him and gestured towards the box on his desk. ‘You obviously don’t.’ Harry opened his mouth to explain, but Draco cut him off. ‘I did that for you. Because you aren’t comfortable with people interested in the same sex.’ 

‘I’m comfortable with it.’ He did it to hide his identity, not because Harry wasn’t comfortable with him.

Draco stepped closer to him and smirked at Harry’s obvious discomfort. 

‘Just because you make me nervous doesn’t mean I’m not comfortable with your sexuality.’

‘Leave it. It’s fine.’ 

Harry left it, but if it _were_ fine then Draco would have had no need to say that it was fine.

#

‘Harry, you didn’t!’ Hermione tried not to smile. She really did, but Ron’s expression made it difficult, and it _was_ humorous. Only Harry would attempt to buy Malfoy a gift without consulting him first. He was that way. He did things for people without them asking for it and without thinking it through. He was a generous person.

Harry buried his face in his hands. ‘I thought he’d like it,’ he mumbled into them. 

Ron shook his head in amusement.

‘Why are you trying to make him happy anyway?’ Hermione asked. 

Harry dropped his hands and blankly looked up at his friends. 

‘You like him,’ Ron accused. 

‘I never said that.’

‘You aren’t denying it, either,’ Hermione said.

‘No, I don’t like him,’ he said as though it made up for not saying earlier.

‘Then you want to have sex with him,’ Hermione said in a way that suggested it was common knowledge.

‘What?’ Ron jumped. He could handle that Harry liked Malfoy as a friend, but that was pushing it too far. ‘Where did you get that idea? Harry is straight. Even if he wasn’t, he’s not interest in Malfoy.’ He turned to Harry. ‘Right, mate?’ After a beat, he repeated, ‘Right?’

‘Right, of course not, Ron,’ Harry agreed with him, and Hermione rolled her eyes at them both.

‘Think about it, Ron. The only times you have ever bought me anything was before we started having sex.’ 

Harry winced and motioned that he had no desire to hear that information but was ignored. 

‘Or when we were fighting, and I quit giving it to you.’

‘Hey! I’m not Ron. I don’t need a reason to buy people things.’ 

Ron gestured that he agreed with him. Harry always bought things for his friends, and he never wanted anything in return. He even gave Ron’s brothers the money to start up their shop. Harry buying something for someone meant nothing at all. And Harry never bought anything for Ginny, even though they were dating, so there was no connection between Harry buying gifts and sex.

‘Everyone has a reason when they buy a gift for someone,’ she pointed out. 

Neither of the boys seemed inclined to agree with her. 

‘Fine.’ Hermione gave up. ‘You don’t like Malfoy, and you don’t want to sleep with him. You only bought him a necklace hoping he would like it and was surprised that he was instead offended by you treating him like a girl, which he is not. Then you ask for my help—and completely ignore me. Since I’m wrong, why did you do it?’

‘I wanted to thank him for the other night.’

‘For what exactly–– _from_ the other night?’

‘For going to the dinner, Hermione. Nothing happened afterwards.’ But he blushed, and they both could tell he was lying. ‘I didn’t do anything with him.’

‘Who are you trying to convince?’ Hermione said.

‘Look, he was upset because how everyone treats him differently when his is a girl. I just wanted––’ Harry stopped, and held his hand up to stop Hermione from continuing her thoughts on that. He finally understood. ‘It’s okay Hermione, I get it. I mean. I do now, once I said it like that. I get it.’

#

Harry went back home, and Draco was no longer in his office. He walked around the house until he found him in their room preparing to bathe. Draco spoke first once he noticed Harry’s arrival:

‘I’m sorry that I fought with you.’ 

‘It’s not your fault ––’ Harry thought about what he wanted to say when he was looking for him, but he cut Harry off before he could start.

‘No, stop.’ Draco had his head lowered and only looked at the clothes he was gathering to take to the bathroom with him. ‘It is my fault. It showed me something that I knew was true, but I refused to admit to myself. You know nothing about me, and you have no desire to. I’m not what you want, and I can’t be what you want. I’m a man and that––’

‘This isn’t about that,’ Harry cut in quickly. He never meant for Draco to see the gift that way, but he understood in that particular moment why he did see it like that. It was hard to explain what he thought when he bought it, once he saw it how everyone else did. If he admitted that he liked Daisy, like everyone else and that she was what he was looking for, then he had to admit that he liked Draco. 

They were the same person.

‘How can this not be about that?’ Malfoy fumed. ‘You bought me jewelry: female jewelry. If it had been for a male, I would have loved it.’ 

‘I know, and I’m an idiot.’ Harry pulled at his hair in frustration. What could he say? He messed up.

‘No,’ Draco said, ‘I am.’ 

Harry was taken aback. Draco never admitted a fault even when it was a blatant one. 

‘You can leave. You win. You don’t have to stay.’ 

Draco was giving up? Harry could walk away and, by a technicality, win? Harry disliked the idea of winning on a technicality, especially when it came about when he finally decided to actual work things out with Draco.

‘Malfoy.’

‘Go home,’ Draco said in tired voice. 

‘I am home,’ Harry insisted.

‘I meant––’

‘I know what you meant. But when we started this, you said that we had to go by the rules, and that I couldn’t run at the first sign of trouble. Well, _neither can you_. So forget about the bet. I am your––significant other––what are we supposed to do?’ 

Draco studied Potter’s face. ‘Sleep on it.’

‘Repeat that?’

‘My mother said, that when they had problems they went to bed, and then started the next day new. If it was a major problem then they would run into it again, but they would both have clear heads about the situation. If it was a small problem, then it usually disappeared.’

‘So, we just ignore it?’

‘No. They never ignored it. Even small problems they ended up talking about a few days later. Actually, I think that was her way of saying they had sex and made up. They always had sex when they were fighting. It was weird.’ 

Harry snickered. 

‘They thought I didn’t know. I could tell. They tried to hide that they were fighting, but they had a pattern, and I could read it.’

‘Maybe we should try it.’ 

Draco looked up at Harry, surprised.

‘You want to have sex?’

‘I—no, I—meant the—huh—sleeping on it thing.’ Blushing, Harry looked down at his feet.

‘Oh, right. Okay.’

Harry lay in bed and tried to sleep, but it was impossible. Even though they were both still there, he felt as though nothing was settled. They lay without touching, and it felt odd to him. Harry noticed how much they must have touched before, once he thought that physical contact might not be welcome. Harry finally reached out and lightly touched Draco’s arm. Draco jumped at the contact, but was quiet.

‘Can I hold you?’ Harry whispered.

‘I’d rather hold you.’ 

Harry nodded and stayed on his side, while Draco rolled to his back.


	9. It's Lovely

The next morning, during breakfast, they sat through their usual routine. Draco was showered and dressed when Harry joined him. He ate while Draco read, and they were quiet, but it was comfortable. Harry’s thoughts wandered as he pondered how their fight might come up again. It seemed as though they would ignore it completely. He remembered what Hermione had said the previous day, and he decided that he should try and get to know Draco better.

‘What do you do?’ Harry asked suddenly. Draco’s brow creased as he looked up from the Prophet.

‘What do you mean?’

‘For work?’ Harry noticed that he worked a lot. He always left before Harry did and worked in his study for hours when he was at home.

‘Oh.’ Draco sat back and seemed to have been caught off guard by the question. ‘I thought you knew.’ 

Harry shook his head sheepishly, and then Draco nodded before he responded. ‘I’m training to be a Healer.’

‘Really?’ Harry found that interesting. He thought that was a profession he’d enjoy himself, if it’s requirements weren’t so bloody high. ‘I thought you had to be sma––’ Harry caught himself, because he knew that Draco was smart, even if he never thought of him as that before. ‘I never pictured you as ––,’ Harry laughed at himself, because he knew that Draco would take that wrong as well, and it was difficult for him to find something to say. ‘I can’t––’

‘Think of anything to say that wouldn’t be insulting?’ Draco finished for him. ‘It’s alright. I still haven’t come up with anything to say about what you’ve chosen as a career that wouldn’t be insulting. And I’ve known about it since before you signed up.’ Draco sipped his tea as he watched Harry, then continued, ‘Except it is exactly what I pictured you doing. I’ll leave it at that.’

‘Do you bite your tongue around me a lot now?’

‘No.’ Draco smirked. ‘I think things through more.’

‘Would you do that with––’ 

Draco interrupted him before he could finish. ‘Yes.’

‘You didn’t even––’

‘I don’t have to think about it,’ Draco said. ‘I always think about what I say when I talk with any of my friends or family. People that I deal with everyday and want to continue to have the privilege of their company, demand it. It is what I do, what I have always done, with the people I care about everyday.’

#

Harry smiled when he saw the familiar outline of Ginny’s profile next to her mother’s in the kitchen. No one was positive she would make it, because she rarely wrote anymore. Too busy, she had said. But he heard her tell her mother that the players were on break for a couple of weeks, starting with the Monday before Christmas. He took a step into the kitchen with the plan of surprising her with a hug before she turned around.

Someone brushed passed him and did what he planned to do before he had the chance. She turned in the man’s arms and smiled at him before leaning in and kissing him. Harry lost his ability to breathe. The man from the _Prophet_ articles stood in the Weasley’s kitchen. Who brought _a fling_ home for Christmas?

‘Harry!’ Ron appeared behind him.

Turning around, Harry hugged him and forced himself to breathe. ‘Where’s Hermione?’

‘Upstairs.’ He nodded in the general direction. ‘My room.’

He gave the stairs a look of longing, but didn’t step toward them. Would it be rude of them all to hide up in Ron’s room for the rest of Christmas?

Ron laughed. ‘You can go talk to her, if you want.’

Forcing a smile, Harry nodded and went up the stairs with Ron quick behind him.

‘You’ve met Mark,’ Hermione said once Harry had entered the room, and she saw at the expression on his face.

‘I saw him.’

Hermione nodded. ‘It’s the same thing.’

Harry wasn’t sure he agreed. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle the introduction.

Ron followed Harry into the room and shut the door. ‘I can’t believe she brought him here. For Christmas no less.’

She furrowed her eyebrows. ‘Not bring her boyfriend home for Christmas?’

Harry’s head shot up at the word “boyfriend”, and Ron glared at her.

Crossing her arms, she continued, ‘They’ve been together for months. It’s customary to introduce your significant other to your family.’ She shook her head and turned away from them. ‘It would’ve been odd had he not been here after all the articles.’ She paused. ‘And more uncomfortable for everyone involved.’

Ron turned red. ‘This is uncomfort––’

‘For Harry!’ Hermione spun back around. ‘It would’ve been more uncomfortable for everyone else not knowing what to say or how to act, and worse for her having to explain their relationship without him here with her.’ She gave Harry a sympathetic smile, before she turned towards Ron. ‘Why should she have to be the one to be uncomfortable in her own house just to make Harry feel better?’

‘Because she’s the one… cause… well, cause––’

She walked and stood next to Harry. ‘This isn’t your fault, so quit beating yourself up about it.’ She took his hands and squeezed them in a reassuring gesture.

Harry shook his head. ‘She’s with someone else.’

‘And it would have happened whether or not you agreed to that bet.’ She sighed and let his hands fall. ‘This is why she broke up with you,’ she said as gently as she could.

‘It wasn’t.’ Harry took a deep breath. ‘She wasn’t supposed to bring them home.’

Hermione closed her eyes, inhaled, opened them and forced a firm tone. ‘Harry, this would have happened anyway.’

#

Draco waited until half past eight for Harry to come home before he headed to the Manor. His jaw hurt from clenching it on and off for the past three hours. They’d been through this before. How could Harry abandon him on Christmas? His anger at himself trumped his anger at Harry. How could he have been so foolish as to believe that he would follow through?

They should have discussed it. 

No, Draco should have made a point to discuss it.

He Floo into the living room and saw the customary decorations of green, silver, crystal and blue scattered throughout it. The room smelled of vanilla and coffee, and in an instant, he felt at peace. He was home. It shocked him to realised he had missed it. A pale silhouette emerged from behind the plethora of packages next to the tree.

Relief flooded through him that Harry failed to show and was not standing next to him as the young blonde ghost flew to him.

‘Draco!’ She smiled and bounced before him. ‘You’re home! Mum, he’s home!’

He was going kill his mother.

‘Ara.’ Draco nodded. ‘Happy Christmas.’

‘Happy Christmas,’ she beamed. Ara loved Christmas. Most of the year she was sullen, but at Christmas everything excited her. ‘Where is he?’ Ara looked around, then floated behind him.  
Draco shook his head declaring Harry’s absence.

Ara’s face fell, and Narcissa entered. ‘Indeed, where is he?’

‘Mother.’

She came to him and embraced him, then kissed his cheek. ‘Draco,’ she said in a stern tone.

‘I don't know.’ Though he could guess; he stepped back and walked to the table that held the coffee set out for them. ‘I don’t want to talk about it, and don’t say––’

Narcissa lifted her hand to stop him.

He glanced at his sister playing by the tree and gave his mother an exasperated look.

‘She wanted to meet him,’ she said quietly.

While preparing them both cups of coffee, he pitched his voice lower. ‘We talked about this.’

‘I agreed that it would be inappropriate when we had guests, but Harry is family.’

Draco rolled his eyes. Some family he turned out to be. Couldn’t even bother to come home on Christmas. And he wasn’t really family, married or not, it was only for two years. He didn’t need to know all their secrets.

‘He should meet your family.’

‘And how am I supposed to explain––’ No. Ara was easy to explain. It was the rest of them that made it difficult. The amount of colourful coordinated gifts under the tree surpassed what would have been acceptable for the three people the evening was planned for. Four counting Ara. Even for the richest of families, it was extravagant, and Harry would notice.

There was enough for seven more children that never or no longer existed, and his father who wouldn’t be with them for a few more years, if everything went well. He quit telling himself that things would go well years ago. It always ended in disappointment.

‘You both should have visited ages ago.’

There was nothing he could say to that, and a sharp cry tore through the house, which saved him from having to.

#

Harry watched more than participated the rest of the evening. Never had he felt like such an outsider before. Ron and Hermione stayed beside him all evening, but it felt different. As though they had to instead of wanted to. Every time he saw Mark touch Ginny, he winced. The worst part was that he wondered if Mark touched her on purpose to get to him, or if they both held back out of respect for her family’s presence with him unnoticed.

He suspected the later.

It made him sick.

‘Ginny,’ Mark said and pulled her to the middle of the room. ‘This went better than I expected.’

She laughed. ‘What did you expect?’

‘Your first time away from your family, and you have six older brothers… What did you think I expected?’ He laughed. ‘The way you talked about them, I thought I’d, at least, eat something that made me sick or get stuck to a chair.’

Laughing, she shook her head at him. Her long red hair was cut short, and Harry missed how it used to flow with her every movement. Harry rolled his eyes at their conversation. No one noticed.

Mark brought her hand to his lips and pulled a small box out of his pocket. Everyone’s attention was on the two, even though they never voiced that it was desired.

‘What's this?’ Ginny asked.

Harry stopped breathing, and the room went quiet around them.

She untied the gold ribbon and opened the small black box with a grin. Harry clenched the glass in his hand. It was just like the gaudy gold ring that he considered on the day he made the bet at the jewellery store. 

‘We’ve talked a lot about the future,’ Mark said.

They talked about the future? Harry’s blood boiled. Ginny always avoided talking about the future.

‘I know what you expect and what I can never expect from you.’

Ginny laughed and tilted her head sideways brushing her cheek against her shoulder like she always did when she was nervous.

‘But I love you despite it all. These last few months have been the best of my life, and I don’t want to change any of it or you.’ He knelt in front of her. ‘Will you marry me?’

She leant down and kissed him hard and then pulled back to answer. ‘Of course, I will. You know I will.’

Harry's glass, along with three others, shattered.

‘Oh, Harry.’ Hermione pulled out her wand. In a flick, all the glass and liquid disappeared.

Looking up to see everyone’s eyes on him, he muttered the same excuse he heard Dudley’s aunt use the last time he caused that to happen. Hermione suggested they go refill the missing drinks, and he thanked God for her while she ushered him into the kitchen.

‘Harry, breathe.’

Obeying her command, he leaned against the counter and attempted to calm himself. She said yes. But she told him they were too young to get married. He kept his eyes on the group in the living room, waiting for Ginny to break from them and come into the kitchen. To explain herself, or to plead for his forgiveness. There were four glasses hovering in front of him before he knew it. One of them nudged his hand until he took it.

‘Are you going to take them?’

He shook his head. There was no way he could go back out there. It was too embarrassing.

‘Fine. Sulk.’ She directed the glasses back to the living room. ‘Once you’ve calmed down, you should join us.’

After pacing for five minutes, he took a deep breath and snuck into the back of the living room. Ron came to join him, and Hermione smiled at them from across the room. He felt everyone, except Ginny, glance in his direction at one point or another while he situated himself in the corner chair.

‘Mark,’ Hermione said loud enough to gather most everyone’s attention. ‘I know what you meant when you said you knew what Ginny expected of you, but I’m curious…’ She lowered her voice to a regular tone. ‘What is she unwilling to do?’

Her manner confused Harry, because he never saw her to be obvious about her intentions. He also had no desire to hear Mark’s answer to that question, because he was sure, it had something to do with sex. Since Ginny and he never got that far in their relationship, the last thing he wanted to hear was how quickly she jumped at the chance with someone else.

‘Oh?’ Mark laughed. ‘That… uhm.’ He looked at Ginny who rolled her eyes. ‘She doesn’t want children, and I’m fine with that.’

‘What?’

Ginny closed her eyes and groaned at the shrill sound of her mother’s voice. When she opened them, she smiled at Mark and then turned to glare at Hermione, who smirked.

Hermione smirked at Ginny?

Wait, Ginny didn’t want to have children?

He looked to Ron for an explanation, but he only shrugged and shook his head. Figures, Ron was just as lost as he was.

Molly was next to Ginny, hands on her hips within seconds, and Hermione appeared in between him and Ron to watch the argument across the room. Hermione squeezed Harry’s elbow and whispered, ‘You’re welcome,’ in his ear.

‘Huh?’ Ron asked.  
Hermione rolled her eyes at him. ‘She didn’t want to tell you, because she knew you wanted a family,’ she said to Harry.

Harry’s stomach turned. They could have talked about it or worked out a compromise. Maybe, waited until they were older and she finished with Quidditch? How did she know she would never want children? Though he wanted children, and he wanted them as soon as possible, he knew he had to wait until he was out of training. Even if his parents were his age at the time they had him, as he told Ginny.

‘Where’s Draco?’ Hermione asked.

The question caught him off guard. ‘What? Oh, um… at home?’

‘Shouldn’t you be with your husband on Christmas? Or him with you?’

Harry shrugged. ‘We didn’t talk about it.’

Sighing, she rolled her eyes.

‘What?’

‘What did you get him for Christmas?’

‘Not jewellery.’

‘Thank, God.’ Hermione laughed. ‘Whatever it is, I hope it’s good, because you are going to need it when you get home.’

#

Draco’s mother told him when he was young that “no matter how bad things got, never let anyone know”. Though they never talked about it in public, and no one outside the family knew, Narcissa refused to accept that her children were dead. Draco admitted to himself that their ghosts made it difficult to think of them as dead, but Christmas reminded him of it more than most days.

Lyra’s crying woke up Carina, so all the ghosts sat in the living room instead of just the oldest. Ara and Carina picked the presents to be opened next and Draco, being the only “child” that could touch them, opened them all while Lyra giggled at the lights and crawled through everything she tried to touch. 

It was how they did Christmas his whole life, but he never intended to share that with Harry. He should have known his mother would disagree and find a way to force him into it.

‘Oh,’ said Ara. ‘This one next.’ She pointed to a blue and silver package marked for Orion. He was one of the miscarriages. Since he was two years older than Draco, they often received similar gifts. Orion’s were blue and Draco’s would match in green. It was a silk shirt in Ravenclaw blue. That always reminded him of the Weasley’s sweaters, except no one ever knew that the blue versions of his clothes existed outside of his family.

Narcissa picked the houses for her children, and Draco often wondered how correct her guesses would have been. He knew he belonged in Slytherin long before he went to Hogwarts, but his mother fancied the idea that not all their children were Slytherins. None were Gryffindor.

‘It’s beautiful,’ Ara said in awe.

Carina pointed her translucent hand to a huge box near the back. Everyone looked, and Ara giggled.

‘Yes! That one next Draco.’

Draco levitated the box to sit in the middle of the room.

‘Who’s it for?’

Smirking, Draco read the names. ‘It’s for you, Ara, to share with Carina and Lyra.’

Nodding, she smiled instead of giggling and bouncing as she had for all the other gifts. 

Draco’s face fell. She never got excited about her own gifts like she did for the others. He flicked his wrist, and the paper fell off. With another flick the box opened, and the content danced out.

‘'It’s a train!’ Narcissa waved her arm in a long graceful gesture, and the pieces put themselves together in the air. The train hooked itself up and then drove over the track as it hooked itself together to make way for the train. It circled around the tree and up and down all around the room.

‘It forms itself to wrap around what ever room you put it in,’ their mother said. ‘Or it could be charmed to go between rooms. Even outside.’

‘It’s lovely,’ Ara said, her tone soft and vacant. ‘Isn’t it?’ she directed the question at Carina who nodded, but kept her eyes on the train flying above their heads. Everything their mother bought for them moved on its own for obvious reasons. The movement could keep Lyra and Carina entertained for hours. 

Ara repeated, ‘It’s lovely.’


	10. Possible With Potions

Draco spent the night at the manor. Though he envisioned Harry worrying about him if he stayed gone a couple of days, Draco knew he’d think nothing of it. It was still nice to picture him pacing in front of their fireplace. So the very last thing Draco expected to see when he came down to breakfast was Harry sitting with his mother over coffee, chatting as if he’d been expected and no harm had been done from his absence the night before.

‘Morning, Draco,’ his mother said, smiling. ‘Why don’t you join us?’

It took a moment for Draco to recover from his shock, but then he came to sit next to his mother at the breakfast table. 

‘Harry was just telling me about the politics of Auror training.’

Draco tried not to let that hurt. ‘Oh?’ Harry never talked to him about his days. ‘Sounds interesting.’

‘Not really,’ Harry said. 

In Draco’s peripheral vision, he could see Harry trying to catch his eye, but he ignored it. Draco’s mother finished the last few bites of her breakfast and then excused herself. She left them in silence behind her. As Draco picked at his food, it seemed as though Harry’s chewing got louder with every bite. Draco’s stomach was tied in knots, and he was unable to eat. It irritated him that Harry had no such problem.

Of course, Draco rolled his eyes at himself; Harry’s wouldn’t be tied in knots because he couldn’t care less. 

‘Could you stop that?’ Draco hadn’t meant to yell.

Harry swallowed. ‘Stop what?’

‘You’re excessively loud chewing.’

He put down his fork and Draco didn’t like the way that he was studying him. 

‘I’m sorry,’ Harry said, and when Draco said nothing, he continued, ‘about last night—’

‘There is no excuse for last night.’

‘I know.’ Harry sighed and rubbed his forehead. ‘I know. But I’m here now, and I want to make it up to you. I just need you to tell me how.’

‘I don’t know,’ Draco said. ‘I don’t know how.’

‘Draco—’

‘Don’t.’ Draco rubbed his forehead. ‘I hadn’t expected to see you here this morning. I’m not prepared for this conversation.’

‘Is it that hard to have a conversation without preparing for it?’

‘Some conversations are important enough you need to think them through,’ Draco said. ‘Though I’m not surprised you’ve never taken the time—’ 

‘You can’t divorce me. That’s the rule isn’t it?’

Draco bit the inside of his cheek. It was the rule. The thought hadn't crossed Draco's mind until Harry said that, but it hung there uncomfortably in the silence between them.

Harry was the first to break it again. 'I don't want a divorce.'

#

Draco’s house was full of ghosts.

At first, this was not surprising to Harry. Hogwarts was also filled with ghosts, and Harry thought that most old buildings would be. Since Malfoy Manor had been in the family for generations, even the sight of children hadn’t disturbed him when they glided into the room. Many children died of illnesses in the past, and Harry told himself that’s who they were. Children from long, long ago. Their deaths still sad but not shocking.

Then Mrs Malfoy introduced them as Draco’s older sisters. Draco wouldn’t look at him through the introduction, and Harry felt like a fool gaping like a fish. 

Harry knew so little about Draco.

Growing up around magic and even ghosts Harry envied Draco for, but growing up with your dead siblings was something entirely different. Harry never wondered if Draco had wanted siblings before. In Harry’s mind, Draco was spoiled and selfish, and would never want to share anything; therefore, of course, he’d never want siblings. 

But it didn’t take long to see that Draco and his oldest sister—Ara—were close. 

Since he missed the night before, they opened the presents to and from him that morning. Mrs Malfoy was warm and accommodating, but Draco was cold and distant. Ara stayed by Draco’s side the whole morning. 

For a moment, Harry thought Draco wouldn’t accept his gift, but after staring at the package for a minute his eyes briefly met Harry’s, and he took it.

‘A broom cleaning set,’ Draco said, and a brief smile came out. 

Harry forced a smile of his own. ‘Does that mean you like it?’

‘It would have been perfect.’ Draco swallowed. ‘Last night, it would have been perfect.’

Not too long after that, Draco excused himself, and Harry was left with Mrs Malfoy and Draco’s sisters. The younger sisters were both easier and more difficult for Harry to deal with. They were at that age where they were just happy for any adult’s attention and played with him. The older of the two babbling about their new toy train and having Harry set it up and narrating everything it was doing.

The baby just cooed, watched, and crawled around the room. The biggest problem with her was, of course, that she wanted to be held. He couldn’t pick her up. Harry thought that ghosts didn’t get tired, but as a baby, she only knew so many things. And being tired was one of them. So when she got too upset at no one holding her, Ara picked her up and took her out of the room, and presumably put her to bed because she was back moments later. The toddler also yawned often, but she eventually fell asleep on the floor watching her train.

‘I must apologise for Draco,’ Mrs Malfoy said. ‘He wasn’t pleased that I let you meet his sisters.’

‘Oh,’ Harry said. ‘I thought he was just mad at me.’

‘I’m sure there is still a bit of that as well, but I think he is angrier with himself. He’s never shared his whole life with someone, and he wanted to keep them a secret forever.’

Harry looked at Ara who was staring at the floor, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat unsure if they should be having this conversation in front of her.

‘She knows,’ Mrs Malfoy said. ‘I’m not sure about the others, but she knows she’s dead, and she understands—well, most everything.’ She smiled fondly at her daughter, and Ara looked up to her and gave her a small smile. 

It was the first time Harry had seen Mrs Malfoy interact with her any of her daughters. Which was odd as it seemed she was the one who wanted them there, seeing as Draco hadn’t.

‘Ara can show you to his room if you’d like to speak with him.’ She said it in a way that suggested it wasn’t a request on either his nor Ara’s part. Ara glided over to him and waited for him to stand. On their way out of the sitting room, Harry saw Mrs Malfoy approach her sleeping daughter on the floor.

Ara lead him to the main staircase, and he followed her, but their movement was slow. He’d noticed that about the ghosts at Hogwarts as well. They could move very fast when needed, but mostly they moved as if a slight breeze was pushing them forward.

‘How’d you die?’ 

Ara stopped.

‘Sorry.’ Harry could feel his cheeks grow warm. ‘It’s probably rude to ask that.’

‘We don’t talk about it.’ She began floating up the stairs again, but then continued a moment later with, ‘Mother had a miscarriage before me, so I’m not even really the oldest.’

Harry didn’t know what to say to that. 

They had come to a long hallway, and before they started down it, she pointed to the first door on the right; Harry thought she meant that was Draco’s room and opened the door without thinking, stepping into the room. It was obviously not his room. It was empty of people but full of things. 

Both a crib and a large bed. Everything dressed in reds. A dress hung up on a stand as though preparing it for a party; yet next to it a toy broom lay on the floor. 

‘Cassiopeia,’ Ara said. ‘Miscarriage.’

Harry saw then, a jar on the mantle of the fireplace, and backed out of the doorway, shutting the door quietly behind him.

She pointed to the door on the left. ‘This one’s mine.’ Then back to the right and back and forth as she named them, ‘Carina and then Orion: another miscarriage.’ She floated forward, and Harry kept two steps behind her. ‘Lyra and, of course, Draco.’ She stopped outside his door but then pointed to one more door beyond it. ‘Caelum: stillbirth. Draco saw that one, and then mother stopped trying.’

Then she floated through Draco’s door, leaving Harry in the hallway alone.

He took a breath, and then knocked on the door. No sound came, so Harry knocked again. A moment later, Draco opened the door and was staring at him. Without a word he went back into the room, leaving the door open. Harry figured it was the only invitation he’d get.

‘I—I’m—’

‘I don’t want your sympathy,’ Draco said before turning to Ara and adding, ‘Ara, leave us.’

She shook her head at Draco but did as he asked. 

Harry shut the door behind her. ‘That’s not what I was going to be apologising for.’

Draco crossed his arms and waited.

‘I’m sorry for last night; I wasn’t thinking.’

‘About anyone other than yourself?’ Draco smirked as Harry took in the familiar words. ‘It takes some getting used to, doesn’t it?’

At the almost smile on Draco’s face, Harry let himself chuckle. ‘Yes, it does.’ After a beat, Harry continued, ‘I didn’t mean to hurt you. We’ve never talked about our plans for Christmas, so I just assumed we’d do what we always did. Your family and my friends all know about the bet.’

Draco nodded, but still had a sullen look about him.

‘If it makes you feel any better, it was horrible; it would have been a lot better had you been there with me. Or, had I never gone at all. I’d have had much more fun here, meeting your family.’ At Draco’s confused look, Harry explained, ‘Mark asked Ginny to marry him.’

‘Ah,’ Draco said, ‘and I take it she said yes.’

Harry nodded, and after a moment of silence Draco asked, ‘Are you okay?’

‘Um.’ Harry had been so busy trying to fix what he’d messed up with Draco that he hadn’t thought too much about his feelings over the Mark thing. He was embarrassed the night before. Completely out of place and felt he no longer belonged to the only family he’d ever known. Of course, that was always meant to happen, wasn’t it? Once everyone got married and had families of their own, he’d have a new family that would take importance over his friends. Only Harry wasn’t ready to let go of them as his family yet. 

Draco came to stand near Harry and leaned against the foot of his bed. ‘I take that as a “no” then.’

‘No, I’m fine,’ Harry said. ‘I just—I’m just not ready to lose them all, yet.’

‘You’re not losing them.’ Draco took Harry’s hands and wrapped his arms around himself. ‘You don’t give up your family for someone else’s when you get married, Harry; they join.’

They hadn’t worked too hard on that part. Everyone had gone their separate ways after the wedding. 

Harry sunk into Draco and let him hold him. Draco always smelled so good. Although, they were rarely close enough for Harry to let himself enjoy it. Harry’s lips brushed against Draco’s neck, and he felt Draco shiver before trying to pull away.

‘Don’t,’ Harry said, and after Draco had stilled, he kissed his neck purposefully. 

‘Harry—’ Draco’s voice was shaky, and Harry’s name turned into a gasp when Harry continued his exploration of Draco’s neck. ‘We’re—re at my parent’s house.’

‘And?’ Harry chuckled. ‘Does your mother check on you much?’

‘No . . .’ Draco moaned as Harry pressed against him and then tugged at Draco’s shirt freeing it from his trousers so he could run his hands up Draco’s bare back. 

‘Haven’t you ever wanted to—’ Harry pressed harder against Draco, bringing their erections together. ‘In your bed?’

‘Fuck,’ Draco breathed out.

Harry smirked and then moved his mouth to just behind Draco’s ear.

‘You want to do this now?’

‘Yes.’ Suddenly, Harry felt they’d waited far too long. He pushed Draco up onto the bed, and Draco shifted backwards until they'd moved to the head of it. He relaxed against the pillows and then into Harry's next kiss.

Knowing that if he stopped, this time, he'd ruin everything, Harry took his time before undressing Draco. Getting used to the feeling of their erections moving together through fabric, so he wouldn't feel as shocked when they came in contact again after they'd finished removing their clothes.

When Harry undid Draco's trousers and slowly pulled them down his thighs, Draco asked, 'Are you sure?'

Draco's breath on Harry's lips as he asked the question took Harry's breath away. They only way his mind could think to respond was to kiss Draco again. He pushed his tongue into Draco's mouth, refusing to let him ask any more questions or reveal any more doubts. Then because the only way to continue removed clothing by hand meant to stop kissing Draco, Harry vanished the lot of it.

Their nakedness surprised Draco, and he pulled back to look at Harry's face, causing Harry to tense in nervousness.

It took a moment for Harry's breathing to calm down and his thoughts to catch up. Draco had never been naked in the same room with someone else before, let alone this close to them. 

Harry relaxed, pulling Draco closer.

'This is the first time for you.'

'You, too,' Draco reminded him.

Harry whispered, 'I don't think we're going to last very long,' causing Draco to laugh and his neck arc toward's Harry's mouth. Unable to resist, Harry brought his lips to it.

Draco groaned and pushed at Harry's hip to make room for his hand between them. Once there, he began stroking their erections together.

'Oh, fuck,' Harry breathed into Draco's ear as Draco chanted Harry's name, which caused Harry to shiver despite how hot he was at the moment. Interested in the effect it would have, Harry stopped cursing in favour of moaning Draco's name.

'I'm going to--' but Draco didn't get to finish his thought as his come spilled between them, pushing Harry over the edge along with him. 

Moments passed as they lay catching their breath, and Draco poked Harry's side.

'You can't fall asleep,' Draco said.

Harry snuggled closer to Draco and mumbled, 'Why not?'

'Because it's near ten in the morning.' Draco laughed but didn't push Harry away or moved to get off the bed himself.

#

Draco's mum keep sending them sly smiles as they gathered their things and said their goodbyes later that afternoon. Every time Harry would blush. He couldn't help it. It's like she could tell what they'd done just by looking at them.

'Are you quite all right?' Draco asked once they'd entered their home through the Floo.

Harry tried to shrug it off because he didn't want to explain it and have it come out all wrong.

'You weren't thinking about the mechanics of men having babies, were you?' Draco was joking, and Harry knew that, but it just made his blush worse because then he was just because Draco mentioned it.

'Well, now I am,' Harry said. 'Why would you bring that up?'

'I just thought, being around my sisters might have made you think about having children.'

'Does it make _you_ think about it?'

'Sometimes.'

Harry took a step toward Draco and reached for his hand. It only brushed the back of Draco's before he'd moved away and sat on their sofa, arms across his chest.

'Do you want to have children?' Harry asked, taking the seat beside him. 'I mean: someday.'

'Don't you?'

'Honestly? Desperately.' Harry laughed at himself. 'Is that weird?'

'I think it's pretty common desire. To have a tiny little person who looks like you and looks up to you, wanting to be just like you.'

Harry couldn't stop himself from laughing then. Draco would look at having children in the vainest way possible, but Harry couldn't deny it was true. He'd never thought of the looking like him part before, but the looking up to him, loving him. Someone he could love in return without fearing that he shouldn't love them or that they didn't love him back.

Looking away from Harry, Draco's arms tightened around himself. Harry rubbed his back, afraid that too intimate of a touch would push Draco farther away.

'Are you all right?'

Draco ran his fingers through his hair and then leaned aginst his left hand as he looked over to Harry. His expression was pensive for a moment, and then he started to say something but changed it to:

'What would you name?' His tone was casual, conversational.

A bit startled, Harry said, 'I, um, I don't know.'

'My family has a tradition of naming people after stars and constellations; I'm sure you've noticed.'

'Yes,' Harry agreed, wondering how safe it was to try and get back to what Draco had just been thinking of. It obviously wasn't pleasant. But Draco leaned in and kissed him, and Harry decided he could leave the conversation to another day.

#

'Can men have babies?'

Ron narrowed his eyes at Harry and looked him up and down as though Harry might be hiding an infant in his cloak.

'Why?'

'Just something Draco had said a while ago, and I wasn't sure if he was taking the piss.'

Then Ron smiled, and Harry wasn't sure he liked that smile.

'What?'

'Are you contemplating having a child with Malfoy?'

'No!' Harry's shout gathered the attention of a few of the Aurors eating their lunches around them, and Harry lowered his voice. 'No, why would you think that? We're too young to have a kid even if this were a real marriage and not a bet.'

'Hmmm.' Ron shrugged and took a bite of his sandwich instead of answering the question.

'Well?'

'I don't see why it matters unless you want to do it.'

'Ron,' Harry hissed.

Chuckling, Ron said, 'There are ways, but I don't know the particulars. It's never come up, but yes. It is possible with potions.'

'What potions? How difficult is it to do this? Do you have to take them daily the whole pregnancy? Or like just once and it deals with everything? How do they give birth? Is this far more dangerous or just about the same?'

Ron's eyes grew wider with each question until Harry shut up realising that he sounded a bit too interested in this subject. He was, interested. Being with Malfoy showed Harry that he might be interested in spending the rest of his life with a man at some point. Having children was something he wanted. In Harry's mind, that meant either no children or adoption.

'You're in love with him,' Ron said.

Harry choked on his sandwich and had to drink half his glass of water before he could speak again, but Ron was still going on mumbling half to himself and half to Harry.

'Bloody Hell, Harry, he's already got you, and it hasn't even been a year. He's going to destroy you. Rip your heart out worst than Ginny, and I didn't even think that was possible.'

'Calm down.' Harry cast a spell to muffle their talking. 'I'm not in love with him.'

'You're thinking about having his child. That's a pretty big sign that _you are_.'

Harry threw his hands in the air in defeat. 'Fine, you got me. Now, how does this potion work?'

Ron shook his head at Harry. 'You're mental.'

'I could just look it up,' Harry pointed out and then went back to eating his sandwich.'

'It won't work for you, because if you get pregnant, you'd be given a desk job for the year. You can't stand being at a desk for two hours a day. There's no way you'd last the whole year.' Satisfied, Ron dug back into his sandwich and then finally answered Harry's question, 'The way I've heard of it is that they just use a gender changing potion with some fertile potions.'

'What?' Ron asked as Harry's eyes widened. It sounded so simple.

'You mean like what Draco took to go to that function with me?'

Ron choked on his sandwich that time.


	11. If Only

Harry never brought up the conversation he and Ron had about male pregnancy with Draco. Although he did use the subject to tease Ron from time to time, until Ron caught on and began to tease Harry _back_ , the git. With it all a joke, Ron backed off on the idea that Harry was in love with Draco.

Or rather, Harry had thought he had. 

Hermione killed that theory a few days before Harry and Draco's first-year anniversary. They’d made it. A year together without killing each other and Hermione suggested they a throw a party.

'What for?' Harry asked.

‘I’d thought you’d enjoy a party for a happier occasion,’ Hermione said, with a slight smirk. ‘Since you’re enjoying your marriage so much more now, treating it like one, and planning for your future together.’

Harry glared at Ron. ‘I’m not in love with him, and I was just curious.’ After they had sat in silence for moment, Harry asked, ‘Should I get him a gift?’

‘After a year?’ Ron laughed and then shook his head fondly at him. ‘Yes, Harry, yes you need to get him a gift.’

‘First year is paper,’ Hermione added, helpfully.

‘Who would want paper as a gift?’

Ron and Hermione shared a look, and then looked at Harry. ‘A Healer,’ they said in unison.

They were spending far too much time together.

#

‘You want to throw an anniversary party?’ Draco gave Harry a look that suggested he didn’t quite believe it.

Harry smiled as he got into bed next to Draco. ‘Is that so surprising?’

‘It requires your friends and my family to be in the same room together, again.’

‘Maybe that should happen more often.’

Draco raised his eyebrows at that.

‘Or, at least, you spending more time with my friends, and I spending more time with your family. My friends _are_ my family and technically, I’m part of yours,’ Harry trailed off looking down at the pattern on their comforter.

Taking his hand, Draco pulled his attention back up and then kissed him once Harry turned his way. Harry wondered how long the honeymoon stage was supposed to last. As theirs hadn’t begun until they were together close to a year, he hoped that didn't mean they’d fall back into fighting, again.

'I'm sure it will be a disaster,' Draco said, but with a smile that said he didn't mean it. 'Weasley will try to hex me before dessert,' bu then added, 'I think it's a lovely idea.'

'It doesn't have to be anything too big or fancy,' Harry said. 

Draco moved to Harry's lap and kissed him.

Harry continued in between kissing Draco. 'I mean we had enough of that at the wedding, and it’s not the atmosphere for getting to know people.

‘I don’t care, Harry,’ Draco said with a laugh.

‘Oh?’

‘I’m just glad you thought of it at all.’

‘Well, it was technically Hermione’s idea.’

After he had kissed him again, Draco said, ‘I meant the part about us being family.’

#

In retrospect, Draco shouldn’t have said he didn’t care about the arrangement of their anniversary party. He was glad that Harry saw him as family and wanted him to spend more time with him as a couple, as the married couple that they were. However, having that first major event happening at the Burrow at the same time as being surrounded by more of Harry’s friends than his own hadn’t been what he pictured. They should have invited everyone to _their_ home. It was plenty big enough.

But then Harry smiled at Draco across the room, and all the noise and jeers no longer seemed all that bad.

Although Draco would probably never get on with all the Weasleys, he had to admit they had good opinions in spouses. While chatting with Fleur and Audrey, Harry came up behind Draco and wrapped his arms around Draco’s waist. Draco could get used to this version of Harry.

Draco relaxed into his embrace as Harry whispered, ‘It’s time for presents.’

‘If we must.’ Draco loved presents, but not so much opening them in front of people. They got through it quickly enough. Draco got Harry a leather bound journal but whispered that his real present would come later. Harry got Draco journals as well. What surprised Draco was that they were the _right_ ones. The ones he used for work. Well, for study, but the study was his work at the moment. St Mungo’s filing system was a mess and not something Draco even considered a system. So the journals he used to compile all the notes and medical information for himself during his training, he continued to expand upon when he left the classroom and moved to St Mungo’s.

‘Are you surprised?’ Harry asked. ‘You look surprised.’

‘I never thought you noticed.’

Harry laughed. ‘I watch you work in those things every day. How could I not?’

#

Draco had thought about this off and on since the last time he’d become Daisy. It hurt at first, but Draco wasn’t a fool. Harry had only ever thought of dating women, and no one could change their sexual orientation. Many times Draco had thought Harry might not be only interested in women and as much as that was proving to be true, and as much as Harry was coming around to enjoying being with Draco as himself it was silly to pretend he couldn’t give Harry something they both knew he wanted.

Even if it meant Draco would irrationally become jealous of _himself_.

‘I wanted to give you something.’

‘Didn’t you already give me something?’ Harry asked with a smile. He sat on the edge of their bed his hand cross in his lap.

‘Not just for our anniversary,’ Draco said, standing a few feet away from him, inching toward the bed. ‘But also to thank you. I know this couldn’t have been an easy thing for you, but you tried anyway. Being … affectionate with me isn’t required, but it’s been … nice. I know you’re doing it more for me than for you, so I thought I’d give you something I know you want.’  
Draco pulled out a potion and Harry’s eye went wide. ‘Is that?’

‘Yes,’ Draco answered and then with shaky hands he opened it and brought it to his mouth.

‘You don’t have to—’

‘I want to.’ And if that hadn’t been the truth before, it would have been then just looking at the expression on Harry’s face. His breathing had already sped up as he watched Draco take the potion.

Harry didn’t speak again as he watched Draco transform and then step closer to him. He just kept looking at Draco with his eyes wide and expectant until Draco bridged the gap and kissed him. Harry groaned as their lips parted, and slipped his fingers through Daisy's hair, pulling her to him and back across the bed.

#

Harry woke in the morning curled around Draco, his arm around Draco’s waist and his nose in Draco’s hair. Trying not to wake him, he shifted slowly up to see what he looked like then. He’d transformed back, but as Harry hadn’t read much about male pregnancy he didn’t know if that _meant_ anything. He let his hand drift over Draco’s stomach as he wondered.

It was stupid. He shook his head at himself. 

They were too young and weren’t meant to stay together. Plus, Draco hadn’t discussed the possibility of them conceiving, so if that’d been what he’d meant to give Harry, then it would have been irresponsible of him not to make it clear. 

The sex had been the gift, but it didn’t stop Harry from wondering if an accident were possible. If an accident had occurred would Draco still be Daisy or would the only magic that continued to happen be on the inside where no one could see it, where no one could tell right away that anything had changed at all.

Harry lay in the bed still wrapped around Draco as he felt the words there on the tip of his tongue. I love you. He closed his eyes and kissed Draco’s temple. If he said them, then he’d lose the bet.

‘Harry?’ Draco looked at Harry and then down on at the hand on his stomach.

He could feel himself blushing as he pulled back. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.’ He hadn’t meant to be caught staring at Draco’s stomach like it carried all the answers in the universe, either.

‘It’s fine.’ Draco propped his head on his hand and turned to study Harry, who quickly looked away from his scrutiny. He needed to stop blushing. Draco would think he’d gone around the twist. He was just looking at him, not plotting his demise.

To escape the situation, Harry got up and mumbled he needed the loo.

While there he brushed his teeth and then cursed himself because had Draco not thought anything of Harry’s hand on his stomach, he probably thought that Harry was disappointed he wasn’t still Daisy. They’d already been down that messy road, and Harry wasn’t in any hurry to experience it again. Last night had been Draco’s idea.

Draco was out of bed stretching still naked when Harry came in. Harry took the opportunity to dispel any thoughts Draco might have had and wrapped his arms around him from behind. He kissed his neck as Draco leaned back into him.

‘Morning,’ Draco said. ‘Mind if I have the first shower?’

‘I could join you.’

Turning, Draco studied Harry’s face and then said, ‘I’d like that.’

#

However unexpected Harry’s behaviour had been that morning, Draco was still more surprised by Harry showing up to St Mungo’s to take lunch with him. Draco faltered for words as Harry looked at him expectantly.

‘I’ve got another half hour until my lunch,’ Draco said as he checked the time.

‘Should I leave?’

‘No,’ Draco said almost grabbing his arm. ‘I’m just making rounds now.’ Draco nodded toward the glass doors at the end of the hallway.

‘I can wait.’

Draco smiled and pulled him along with him. ‘You can come with. You’ll enjoy this one, I’m sure.’

Harry followed him through the doors his footsteps unsure and stopped once he saw all the children. At St Mungo’s there were many group rooms instead of private rooms. The private rooms were for more severe cases or, in cases like Harry, people who would otherwise be harassed. Harry had rarely had a reason to see the vast amount of group rooms that were around. Children grew bored easily, so it almost always worked better to have them together where they could play and entertain each other as long as they weren’t contagious. Or they were all contiguous with the same thing. 

These children were not contagious. Harry looked at Draco as if he could offer some explanation. 

‘Accident prone these lot are,’ Draco joked and was more address the children, who laughed, than Harry. ‘My friend, Harry, has come to visit me for lunch today, and I thought you wouldn’t mind the company.’

The ones who could walk came to greet Harry as Draco went to poke at his first bedded patience. Although most of the children smiled and laughed when he came to visit them, this young boy did not. He eyed Harry and then glared at Draco as Draco approached him.

‘Is that Harry Potter?’ Matthew asked.

‘Yes.’ Draco held out his hand. ‘I’m going to need your—’

‘I know the drill.’ Matthew dropped his arm into Draco’s hand. ‘I don’t believe he’s friends with you.’

Other than his legs regrowing their bones, Matthew was in perfect health. Still, Draco was in training, so they wanted him to practice the vital spells so he could do them in his sleep. Matthew’s blood pressure and heart rate were normal until Draco said:

‘I don’t believe a fall down the stairs shattered the bones in your legs.’

Matthew looked away, and Draco bit his tongue. It wasn’t true just for Matthew. He wasn’t the only repeat patient in the AP ward. These children weren’t at Hogwarts yet, hadn’t received their letters, and had a tendency not to have shown a bit of magic yet. Not all of them, of course. It was perfectly normal for children to take risks. As well as for them to trip on their shoelaces and fall down the stairs. All broken or missing bones as well as head injuries were all brought here. But it was enough that Draco more than suspected that these accident prone children hadn’t suffered accidents at all. Especially when the parents of said child failed to notice that their shoes didn’t have shoelaces.

‘I’m not a Squib,’ Matthew mumbled and looked away from Draco.

‘Of course not.’ Draco could tell Matthew didn’t believe him, with tears welling in his eyes. ‘If you were, you’d be dead by now.’

‘Really?’ It was the most interest Matthew had ever had in anything Draco had to say. 

Draco nodded. ‘You’re magic is protecting you, even if it isn’t always obvious.’

He still didn’t smile as Draco moved on to the next bed, but Draco caught him looking back and forth between Harry and himself with interest. He’d make a great Slytherin someday. Draco smiled as he helped Abby with her arm wishing he could say the same for her. If she weren’t a Squib, Draco would mark her a Hufflepuff.

‘Afternoon, Healer Draco,’ she said with a smile. 

It was her third visit, but Draco had only been at St Mungo’s for her latest one. 

‘How are you today, my sunshine?’

‘Good,’ she said, but then admitted, ‘tired.’

The potions took a lot out of Squibs as they didn’t have their own magic to protect them and help heal them. The potions worked, but simply slower. Abby’s arm was a simple break, but they kept her to monitor her head. Draco worried about using potions with her at all as a Squib with a head injury. His mentor was perplexed by his reluctance. He couldn’t think of what else they’d use, but Draco was sure Muggles had something. Surly they dealt with head injuries all the time without magic. The thing that bothered Draco was that they knew so little about Squibs. An unspoken acknowledgment that it would take longer to heal, that you might need more potion but nothing long term to study the effects.

Once he finished with the children in the beds, Draco had to break up the group of children talking and laughing with Harry.

Harry looked up as Draco approached him, and Draco tried to nod Harry in the direction of the beds. Harry looked nervously at them but seemed to get the message. Although Draco hadn’t thought of it until Matthew asked, it would be real treat for them all to get to meet _Harry Potter_.

‘You never told us you were friends with Harry Potter,’ Sarah said, and he walked her back to her bed to check her over.

‘Well, you never asked.’

Sarah put a hand on her hip. ‘You don’t think it should have come up when you were telling us stories about him? Hmmm?’

‘Shhh.’ Draco put his finger to his lips, teasing her as he saw that she was healing nicely. ‘He’ll hear you and it’ll go to his head, and it’s big enough as it is.’

‘How long have you been friends?’ Sarah asked as they made their way back to the group.

‘Why we went to school together. Hogwarts, of course.’

‘Were you in the same house?’ Edward asked, quickly picking up on the conversation they were having.

‘No, Harry was Gryffindor.’

‘We know that,’ Sarah said, ‘everyone knows that! What house were you in?’

‘I was in,’ Draco paused to be dramatic. ‘Slytherin.’

There were shocked gasps and squeals of delight. Not all of them had even heard of Hogwarts nor about the houses yet. Draco hadn’t at their ages. Not until he was closer to Matthew and Sarah’s age.

‘You’re too nice to be a Slytherin,’ Sarah said.

From across the room where he was sitting with Matthew, Harry barked out a laugh. ‘Oh but Draco _is_ a Slytherin. In fact, he’s such a Slytherin that the hat didn’t even have to touch his head before he was sorted.’

Matthew’s eyes met Draco’s. ‘You’re not supposed to tell them about the hat, Harry.’

Harry rolled his eyes, and Draco went back to work. When Draco had finished his check ups, he informed to Harry that he needed to send his notes off but that he’d be back shortly. Even Matthew seemed to be in good spirits by then. Harry might need to come by and visit more often.

#

At the desk, the Medi-witch smiled at Draco as he came her way. He handed over a copy of his notes for her to add to the children’s scroll, and arched an eyebrow at her. Not many people smiled at him.

'I’ve been watching,’ she said with a more knowing smile that time and added with a wistful sigh, ‘You're so lucky.’

Draco swallowed as fear shot through him. They’d been so obvious that without even touching somehow she knew. Then again, maybe touching wasn’t required. Harry had just stopped by to take Draco out to lunch. The witch wasn’t accusing them of marriage just not being “friends”. Harry did make that obvious enough, even if he acted more like this would be their first date the way he fidgeted about.

It struck Draco then: that it was.

Harry had just stopped by St Mungo’s to ask him out on a date. His pulse quickened as he turned back to watch Harry talking with the kids through the glass doors.

'Yeah,' Draco agreed. He was. He was very lucky. For once. 

When Harry looked up, their eyes meet, causing his nervous to turn into a warmth to spread through him. 

If only it were real.


	12. A Real Possiblity

Harry had fallen in love with Draco.

Once the thought was there, it was impossible for Harry to hide from it. 

Harry watched Draco strip off his clothes at the end of the day and look over at Harry lying in bed then turned to their wardrobe.

‘I’ll only take it off if you wear anything over here,’ Harry said, helping Draco make his decision. 

Draco still took it slow. His steps toward Harry, every time he moved to kiss him or even touch him. Harry joked that he wouldn’t break or that he wouldn’t run away, but it became far too quiet after the last time Harry made the later joke. That one wasn’t quite true. Not at that moment, but Harry still planned on leaving in the end. It still hung heavy on Harry’s mind.

As soon as Draco made it to the bed, Harry pulled him onto his lap and kissed him.

Pulling back, Draco studied Harry’s face. ‘Are you sure?’

‘This isn’t our first time. I’m sure.’

They made love. More and more often, even if Draco didn’t seem sure of it each time in the beginning. Harry always found a way to convince him it was a good idea in the end. They were married, after all.

And when they made love, Harry had to bite the pillow, blanket or once his arm to keep from saying the words as he came.

 _I love you_.

Because he couldn’t let Draco know that he’d already won. He couldn’t let Draco ever know that he won.

#

‘What are your plans for the day?’ Draco asked over breakfast, not looking up from his paper.

It was hard to hold back the only thought you had floating in your head. That it was a deep, dark secret Harry could never say only made it more prominent in his thoughts.

Holding his tongue, Harry said, ‘Same as every other day: Auror training. You?’

Draco looked up from his paper and their eyes met. The words almost slipped out. 

‘Healer training. And lunch?’

It was an invitation and Harry knew it, but he was scared to come back. It could become addictive. Seeing Draco at work, at work with children. Harry’d been invited back, not just by Draco, but by the Medi-Witch who watched over the children all day.

‘It’s good for them to have visitors, and what a story they’ll get to tell when they go home.’

Harry didn’t mind this part of being a celebrity. That just his name could cause good things to happen in people’s lives around him, not just call attention to himself. Yet, Harry hadn’t been back.

There was no way to explain it to Draco. _I’m falling in love with you and it’s scaring the shit out of me_ , wouldn’t work. And _seeing you working with children makes me want to have them with you_ was a thought that still terrified Harry too much to say aloud.

Because Harry couldn’t stop wondering if Draco had been lying this whole time. 

He’d think of the good moments and think they couldn’t possibly be lies. Like the day he went to visit Draco at St Mungo’s. How he smiled and joked with the children, and how even the sullen ones seemed to like Draco. That had to be the real Draco. Harry tried to convince himself that Draco couldn’t and wouldn’t lie all day as he worked. But that one little girl called Draco too nice to be a Slytherin, and a part of Harry still agreed with her.

That idea stuck in his mind. Either he’d always been wrong about Draco or he’d become a master of manipulation. Maybe he’d always been that though.

Draco knew Harry too well. He’d always had, which was why he was so good at getting under Harry’s skin. He had to have known that a hospital room full of children would get to him. 

If Draco said it first—then maybe things would be different. Perhaps, Harry could forget all about the bet, and why they were together and just let it out. Draco either didn’t feel the same or, like Harry, wasn’t saying it because of the bet. For Draco to win the bet, they both had to fall in love with each other. Even if Draco did say it first, his words would be hollow. If Harry admitted he fell in love, Draco could lie and then Draco would win. In more ways than one.

Then again, if he truly loved Draco, did any of it matter at all?

‘You’re pensive this morning,’ Draco said, breaking through Harry’s panic.

‘Stop it,’ Harry muttered to himself, trying to push his paranoid thoughts away so he could have a normal conversation with Draco.

‘Stop what?’ Draco asked.

Harry stared at him dumbfounded for a moment. ‘Nothing, my head—I have a headache.’

Draco watched him carefully and Harry wondered if being a Healer meant he could just look at him and tell when he was lying about a headache, but then he stood and came over to Harry, kissing him and running his hands through his hair.

It wasn’t until Draco had left him before Harry realised that he really had had a slight headache and that he didn’t anymore.

#

‘I’m surprised you agreed to see me,’ Harry said as Ginny joined him for lunch. They were sitting outside at a small table for two at a small cafe in the Wizarding part of London. One of the many that had popped up after the war. Harry had already ordered their food, pleased with himself when Ginny took a bite without asking what it was and nodded her head to say it was good.

‘Why wouldn’t I?’ Ginny said in a tone that was far too innocent, her mouth still full with her first bite.

Harry shook the thoughts away. If he was seeing manipulative gestures in Ginny, he really was becoming far too paranoid. The thing was that Harry didn’t have anyone else he knew he could talk to. 

Ron and Hermione were convinced Harry was in love with Draco and they were being all _supportive_ about it, not freaking out like he was. Draco’s family and friends were out of the question, Luna’s advice wasn’t always the easiest to take, and Neville normally just shrugged and said he didn’t know, but good luck. 

Ginny was over Harry, planning her own wedding to Mark, but she wasn’t all wooed by Draco either.

‘I need your advice.’

Rolling her eyes, Ginny said, ‘Of course, you do.’

‘About Draco and the bet.’ Harry paused as he tried to say the problem without saying he was in love with Draco. ‘We’re passed a year, and I’ve started to see him differently than I used to.’

‘Hadn’t you a long time ago?’

Harry was so relieved she hadn’t accused him of being in love with Draco that it took a moment for him to gather his thoughts. He was so ready to begin denying it. 

‘I mean,’ Ginny continued, ‘you haven’t been fighting for a while now, right?’

‘Right. We have been getting along for, but—’

‘You had sex with him.’ It was matter of fact. And true, but Harry had gotten over that particular freak out by then.

Still, Harry couldn’t look at her while he nodded. He had no reason to feel so awful about it. She’d been with Mark as well, before Harry had made it that far with Draco, even. Looking back, Harry was sure of that then. Without mentioning someone else, it wouldn’t have mattered. Ginny a been the one who wanted the break up, for them both to be free.

And they’d never slept with each other.

‘It’s just sex, Harry, it doesn’t change anything.’ Ginny reached out and took Harry’s hand. ‘It doesn’t mean you can’t like women, too, or that you’ll stop. After this bet is over, you can still move on like it never happened. Even though it won’t be with me . . . it doesn’t change anything, not really. Sex is sex. Everyone enjoys it.’

‘Yeah,’ Harry said, taking his hand back to his lap. ‘Muggle upbringing and all.’ 

It was a lie. He hadn’t thought much about what Draco being a bloke meant for his seuxality.  
Ginny brushed the idea away. ‘Besides, no one is going to know about you and Malfoy, anyway. Just pretend it never happened. In fact, I don’t know why you’re continuing with this at all, anymore. You did it to prove your love for me, remember?’

Since no one around him was bothered by it, Harry more had to get used to the idea himself. Worrying about what others thought of him, especially since most people had no idea they were even together, hadn’t crossed his mind. Of course he could date women again when it was over. He could date other men when it was over as well.

His problem was that he didn’t want it to be over. He wasn’t looking at other women worrying they wouldn’t have him because he’d been with a man; he wasn’t looking at other women at all. 

‘I remember,’ Harry said, wondering if Ginny knew anything about Harry at all anymore. Or if she had to begin with. There were no other women in his thoughts when he’d been with Ginny. Nor men for that matter, at least, not in that way. It was why the idea of a break bothered him so much. They’d already waited for each other so long. There was no reason to break up when all it would take to see each other was a quick trip through the Floo. There was no reason for it even if they only saw each other once a month. 

The only reason to break up that Harry could think of was to replace each other.

‘I’ve moved on,’ Ginny continued, ‘so there’s no reason for you not to as well.’

Their eyes met. Harry suddenly felt lighter. He and Ginny were over; he’d mourned her and moved on—to Malfoy, his husband. 

It didn’t change Harry’s position. It was just that a part of him had still been holding on to her. Feeling guilty about how it had ended, knowing it had all been his fault. Thinking about when it was all over, even as he mourned her and knew there wasn’t an after with her.

He was over her. It took him until then to realise it, but there it was. The idea of no after Draco spent with Ginny didn’t cause a pain in Harry’s chest.

Part of what Draco had said over a year ago had already been proven true: Harry and Ginny weren’t meant to last forever. Losing his first love wasn’t the end of the world.

After a beat, Harry said, ‘You’re right. I don’t know what I was thinking.’

‘So, you’re going to break it off with him then?’

‘No.’ 

Ginny’s mood darkened. ‘Why ever not?’

A smile had forced its way onto his mouth. ‘Just because he already won the bet, doesn’t mean I have to let him know that. Yes, you moved on, but the bet wasn’t just that you and I weren’t right for each other. It was that _he_ was a better match for me. There’s no reason for me to cancel the bet.’

‘Already won? Are you saying he _is_ a better match for you than me?’

Yes, he was, but Harry knew it would be insensitive to say that. They were still on shaky ground over the whole deal as it was, and her being his best friend’s sister meant Harry really didn’t want to make it anymore awkward than it had to be. They weren’t meant for each other. That much was obvious to both of them then. He still shouldn’t rub his marriage in her face—just like it had at first hurt him to see her with Mark. 

‘Maybe I _am_ more suited to a political marriage.’ Jokingly, Harry added, ‘I mean I’ve always been kind of shit when it came to romantic relationships.’

It was a truth, he knew she’d appreciate. His relationship with Cho and that Ginny had to organise everything in their relationship or she would have just been his friend with a glorified title had been a running joke with them since they got back together after the war.

They laughed, even if it was a bit forced; then looking up, Harry’s eyes met Draco’s and his heart dropped to his stomach. The shocked expression on Draco’s face cut him. Jumping up, Harry ran toward him, almost shoving people out of his way, but Draco must have Disapparated back to St. Mungo’s because he was no longer anywhere to be seen in the street. Harry had been avoiding Draco, and even if Draco had been brushing it aside this wouldn’t look good from his perspective.

‘What was that?’ Ginny asked as Harry shuffled back to her at the cafe.

‘Draco.’ 

‘Is he coming over?’ Looking behind her, Ginny saw he was nowhere to be seen. ‘Did he just leave?’

‘I don’t think he’s too happy to see us together.’

‘Odd that.’ She looked Harry up and down as if suddenly seeing something new about him. ‘I wouldn’t have figured him being the jealous type, especially when the marriage was arranged for a bet.’

Harry snorted. ‘You don’t picture Draco as jelaous? I’d say that’s one of his defining characteristics since we met at a eleven.’

‘Hmmm, well, you have always seemed to bring that out in him.’

#

No matter how busy they both were, Harry could always count on Draco to be home at dinner and—since the first fight it caused when Harry had—Harry made a point to be there or owl Draco as well.

Staring across the empty table, Harry knew he’d fucked up.

Harry was angry for the first ten minutes. They hadn’t done anything but have lunch. Harry hadn’t done anything wrong. It was _just_ lunch. But then Harry reminded himself that Draco had been inviting him for lunch just that morning, and he’d been avoiding it. Now Draco probably thought he knew why. 

But as the night wore on, Harry’s anger returned in full force. Draco had tore into him when Harry had done this same thing to Draco. 

When hours later, Draco stumbled in through the Floo drunk off his arse, Harry said, ‘Would it be so hard for you to put a little bit of trust in me?’

Draco looked pale as he swallowed. Words were slow to him, but that wasn’t unusual for a drunk. 

Finally Draco said, ‘I don’t like her.’

‘You don’t have to like her. But she’s a friend of mine, and a part of my family.’

Glaring at the floor, Draco looked like a sullen child. That _fuck Draco is adorable_ part of Harry took over again, and Harry stood, making his way over to Draco. When Harry grabbed his arms and pulled him toward him, Draco stumbled against Harry’s chest.

Draco opened his mouth to protest, but Harry kissed him before he could get a word in.

It was late and Harry was too tired to fight it out. He brought Draco down to the couch with him, pulling Draco onto his lap as he lay back. They broke apart for air and Draco stared down on Harry for a moment then leaned down to kiss him again. The kiss was slow and fragile. Their lips brushing more than touching before Harry arched up into it again.

‘I’m sorry,’ Draco said after pulling back, forcing Harry to sit up to remain close enough to kiss Draco again.

Harry brushed Draco’s hair away from his face. ‘Me, too.’ When Draco’s eyes met Harry’s, he continued, ‘I should have let you know I planned on meeting with her. I shouldn’t have been avoiding you.’’ 

‘Why did you?’

‘I—’ but Harry couldn’t say it. ‘You’re confusing me.’

‘How?’ Draco’s expression started as confused but slowly changed to hopeful.

Harry swallowed as he prepared his lie. ‘I’d never thought about being with a man before and—well, obviously, I’ve enjoyed being with you. I like this—’ Harry kissed him.

‘And that confuses you?’ 

Brushing his lips against Draco, Harry said, ‘You don’t know much about the Muggle world, do you?’

‘Not much.’

He knew so much about more about Draco’s life than he’d let Draco learn about his own. Draco’s eyes were still unfocused but he seemed intent on the words coming from Harry. Maybe he was drunk enough to forget all about this conversation in the morning. More likely that was wishful thinking, but it helped the lie seem more real with the background information. He might not be able to tell Draco that he loved him, but he could take the next step forward and share a bit of his painful past with Draco like how Draco had already been forced to share with him.

‘My family hates magic and used to call me a freak for being a wizard, even before I knew I was a wizard. But most Muggles don’t believe that magic is real and certainly have nothing against it—how do you hate something that doesn’t exist? You can’t.

‘But two men in a relationship is something that exists and it’s something many consider socially acceptable to hate. Like vampires and werewolves here. They see relationships like ours as dangerous. And worse than that, many people see it as a choice. Because of that it was a common insult for my cousin to use against me. Not because he had ever thought it might be true, but because it didn’t matter whether or not it was true. 

‘Not that I’ve ever cared what they thought of me, but when you’re raise around an idea—it’s hard for it not to come to mind when you begin to realise it might be true. If I thought about another boy—’

Harry watched Draco’s eyes as he rubbed his thumb across his cheek. There was more truth in Harry’s explanation than fiction, and as he continued he was more thinking aloud to himself than explaining his confusion to Draco.

‘If I thought about another boy like that, I brushed it away. Like, Cedric. It was easier to focus on Cho than to let myself consider what it meant to be attracted to Cedric.’

‘Didn’t they date each other?’

‘Yes,’ Harry said, with a laugh. ‘That they did. He wasn’t the only one I noticed, though. Maybe he came to mind because he’s . . .’

‘Dead?’ Draco asked.

‘Not a real possibility.’ 

Not like the person still sitting on Harry’s lap, who had occupied Harry thoughts as teenager more than any other person, including Voldemort. No wonder Ron and Hermione weren’t surprised that Harry could fall for Draco so easily. Voldemort had a piece of his soul inside Harry and he didn’t occupy his thoughts in the same obsessed manner that Draco always had. 

At eleven his worst fear was making fun of Draco on broomstick, and then it was losing to him during a match, and then after years of saying all he wanted was Draco to leave him alone he got it only to fall asleep watching Draco’s name on his map.

Draco’s expression turned curious. ‘Who is?’

_You._


	13. Like Always

‘How did you only now realise you’re gay at twenty?’ Ron said, raising his arms in exasperation. Ron and Hermione had moved had recently moved into a small flat of their own. It only had one sofa and no tables. It was still nice to have neutral ground to spend time with them, even if the place didn’t feel quite like a home yet.

Harry rolled his eyes as he paced in front of them. ‘I didn’t say I was gay. I said I’ve kind of always fancied guys.’ And had simply not realised it yet.

‘How is that different?’

‘Well, I’m still attracted to girls.’

‘It’s actually not that uncommon,’ Hermione said, bringing the tea service out and having it float between them. ‘Not everyone knows or thinks about such things at a young age.’

Ron shrugged. ‘Sure, but wouldn’t that be a hard thing not to notice as horny teenager?’

‘You say that like you’re not still a horny teenager.’ Hermione smiled as she prepared a cup of tea for herself.

‘Hey - twenty. No longer a teen.’

Smiling at his friends, Harry starting making himself a cup as well. He was glad Ron was taking everything so well. Looking back, Harry couldn’t figure out why he’d been so worried about it. They had both accepted that Harry was falling for Draco before Harry could even admit it to himself. 

Being attracted to men sort of went along with that. It was more that Harry was looking back and seeing things in a new light with this information. He’d thought of many men, even ones he’d been close to, as attractive while not noticing women all that much until he’d started to fancy them. He’d noticed that Tom Riddle was attractive as a young man but had somehow missed that Hermione was.

Hermione was his friend, but Tom Riddle was Voldemort. It was enough that Harry knew the thoughts had lingered in the back of his mind all along, even if he chose to ignore them.

As for Ron and Hermione, it was always easier to watch someone else go through the turmoil instead of feeling it all yourself.

They’d figured it out and accepted it like always, accepted that no matter what happened they’d be there for Harry through it all. It was just that Harry had spent more time than he’d ever realised justifying to himself that all those little things they’d tease him about over the years had never been about attraction. Ron and Hermione never even suggested as much when they said they worried about his obsession with Draco in their sixth year. 

Although, they’d never been in his thoughts. 

So no one knew he thought about how graceful Draco was on a broom. They knew he loathed having to see Draco, but not that it was because he was afraid of embarrassing himself in front of him. It wasn’t just what Draco would say, in front of others that put Harry on edge. Harry couldn’t care less what most people thought of him. But with Draco, he’d cared. He’d always cared.

‘You alright, mate?’ Ron asked, pulling Harry from his thoughts.. ‘You look scared. I mean happier than I’ve ever seen you but terrified at the same time.’

Harry laughed. ‘I am.’

When he’d catch himself smiling or laughing, Harry’d think about how long it had been since he’d done that. The thought that Draco had been the one to cause this change in him would chase the smiles and laughter away.

‘Oh, Harry,’ Hermione said. ‘It’ll get easier. You just have to get used to the idea.’

Nodding, Harry drank his tea and then stared down into it instead of looking at his friends. They were always so worried about him. It will get easier. So many times Hermione had said it, but they kept not coming true. Each year at Hogwarts was worse than the one before it. Then the war. 

Everything was supposed to get easier, better after the war. Instead, everyone was filled with hate, fighting through trials on who to punish and how much they deserved. Then just went it seemed to be settling, Ginny left him. They were in love. They’d waited through the worst of it so they could be together. That meant they had to love each other.

Maybe it had meant the opposite. It’s much easier to be apart from, to wait as long as it takes for someone you’re not really missing in the first place.

During the war, Harry had worried about Ginny’s safety, but he’d worried about everyone’s safety. He’d watched more than just her name walking around on the Marauder's Map. Her more than others, but Draco more than others, too. 

Even then he’d worried for Draco.

If Harry had been with Draco during his sixth year instead of chasing him around for the entirety of it, Harry wondered if it would have been as easy for him to leave Draco behind at Hogwarts as it had been for him to leave Ginny.

‘I’m falling in love with him.’ These words were not surprising to anyone, and neither were the ones that followed. ‘He’s already got his revenge, and I haven’t even left yet. I’m dreading the day I have to.’

It was quiet for a moment as Hermione gave him a sympathetic look and Ron shook head before finally breaking the silence with,

‘Here’s an idea: don’t.’

They both looked to Ron—Harry in surprise and Hermione with a smile. 

‘Don’t leave him,’ Ron said. ‘Go tell him you love him and stay together. Weren’t you the one who spoke up for him at his trial? Who said we’d never tried to see it from his perspective and that he was never that bad? Maybe this never was about revenge against you. Maybe it really is just a bet.’

Harry chewed the inside of his cheek, not wanting to get in a fight about the past. There was a difference between not being a murder—like why Harry had spoken at Draco’s trial—and not being a prat who loved to make Harry’s life miserable—which was how Harry had always seen him. All he’d done at Draco’s trial was tell the truth. Draco still blamed Harry for landing his father in Azkaban long before that. 

‘If he’s right,’ Harry said, ‘then I could have this with anyone.’

‘I don’t think it works like that, mate. You’ve already gone through the shit together—that’s what he was saying created the love, right? You can’t just spell it away like it never happened. I’ve never seen you look at _anyone_ the way you looked at him—’ Ron stopped Harry from interjecting. ‘Never my sister. You never looked at her like that. You hardly looked at her at all, and you weren’t comfortable with her like you are now. You’ve already created this with him. You’re not going to be able to recreate it with someone else—you’ll constantly be comparing them, and if you still love him, will they ever measure up?’ 

Hermione took Ron’s hand and squeezed it.

‘Besides,’ Ron continued. ‘Even if you could eventually have this with someone else, you’ve said yourself you don’t want to end this. That it’d break your heart. Are you really willing to break your own heart to win a bet?’

Harry thought for a moment, and then said, ‘It’s not just a bet. It’s a bet against _Malfoy_.’

Laughing Ron shook his head again. ‘That right there should have told us—should have told you—you were in love with him long before this bet ever happened.’

#

Recently, it had become difficult for Harry to look away from Draco during their limited time together. It amazed Harry how much one’s perception of someone could change how attractive they were.

Before had someone pressed him, Harry might have admitted that Draco—hell, all the Malfoys—were attractive, but never that he was personally attracted to him.

Now, it wasn’t just that the expressions that Draco shared with him were different. Even when he glared at Harry, Harry found it attractive, cute even. That Draco was all bark and no bite had used to annoy Harry at school. It made him think of Draco as a coward and useless, but as adults, Harry found it adorable. His perfectionism in how he dressed and presented himself no longer seemed arrogant and snobbish, but Harry found it sexy and—as hard it was for Harry to admit he ever wanted or needed such a thing—responsible. 

Harry liked that Draco was dependable, responsible.

Little things that Harry brushed aside as something Draco just did turned out to have a regular positive impact on Harry’s life.

When kissing Draco ran his fingers through Harry’s hair and then brushed it down when he pulled away. The gestures turn it from rat’s nest to the sexy bedhead look Harry’s father had been famous for.

‘I saw this jumper and thought of you,’ Draco would say after getting Harry another item of clothing that without Harry ever trying it on fit better than anything he owned before. When Harry didn’t wear the clothes Draco picked out, he didn’t make a fuss. He didn’t care about his clothes, and he didn’t care what people thought of him or how he looked. So after the formality of the wedding, Harry didn’t feel the need to start dressing up.

One day in a hurry, Harry grabbed a pair of grey trousers Draco had bought him. 

Such a little thing, but not pulling at his pants all day made it one of the least stressful days of training he’d ever had. Little irritants turned into bigger issues the longer they had time to build up.

‘You look nice today,’ Hermione had said once when Harry was in an outfit Draco had picked out for him, and then slowly all of his clothing became things Draco had picked out for him. He’d get rid of a shirt or a sock with a hole in it, and as he still had plenty of clothing, Harry didn’t feel the need to go shopping. 

Hermione wasn’t the only one to tell Harry he looked nice. Over time the comments slowly changed to lingering looks as Harry looking good that day turned into the expectation he would look good every day. 

As always, Harry had noticed in on Draco’s face first. If he hadn’t seen it there, knowing what it meant from Draco—that they’d ended up having sex at the breakfast table before they’d left for work was a good indication of what the look had meant—Harry wouldn’t have recognized it when he saw it on Pauline’s face later. 

Pauline smiled at Harry like she always did as he stopped by her desk to sign in, and he caught the look from the corner of his eye. 

Looking him up and down Pauline asked, ‘Have any plans tonight?’

This was not the first time she’d asked Harry this question and the answer came out before Harry’s thoughts caught up to what she’d meant. ‘Not really. Just going home—sleeping off training.’

‘Alone?’

It was the first time she’d asked that question and Harry blushed, dropping the quill and almost spilling her ink all over the sign in parchment. 

She laughed, but it wasn’t so much at him as to try to keep the situation friendly.

‘No,’ Harry said quickly. ‘Not alone.’

‘Oh.’ Her laughter faded. ‘I thought Ginny had moved on—’

‘We both have.’ Harry nodded goodbye, knowing he’d made a huge mistake. Maybe Pauline would tell no, and maybe no one had overheard their conversation, but Harry’s luck rarely worked out like that.

By the end of the day, the news had spread through the Ministry. 

Women from every department he’d ever stepped foot in suddenly let him know they’d been interested in him. He could have asked them, had he _known_? Much like discovering his attraction to men, Harry discovered he’d been flirting with them. At least, they’d been flirting with him, and Harry had not been discouraging it.

Harry went home and straight to the bath to soak for an hour before dinner. Half way through it, Draco came in and leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms and watching Harry.

‘Hi,’ Harry said, avoiding eye contact. He was weighing whether he should bother Draco about what had happened that day or not when Draco broke the silence with, ‘Anything interesting happen today?’

Groaning Harry pushed his head under the water and hid there for a moment before coming back up for air.

‘I take that as a: yes, and it was shit.’ Draco came into the room and began undressing, starting with his cuffs. ‘I heard an interesting rumour that _you_ are seeing a mysterious someone. So you know: they think it’s Daisy as she’s the only person they’ve see you out with, even if it has been a while.’

‘Oh,’ Harry said with relief. ‘Well, that’s not too bad then. I mean, no one is going to be able to find her, right?’

‘True, but the papers are going to have a field day if you don’t talk to them.’ Draco was shirtless then and kneeled next to the tub. ‘We’re a few months out . . . what are you doing?’

‘She asked me out, Draco, what was I supposed to say?’

‘It’s been over a year, and this is the first time someone’s asked you out?’

Harry bit his lip. ‘Probably not . . . I just generally don’t realise when people ask me out.’

Draco snorted. ‘Yeah, I’d imagine someone would have to either demand or bargain you into a date, and you’d still miss it for what it really was.’

Sighing, Harry brought his hand to the side of Draco’s face and then ran his wet fingers through his hair. ‘Only a few more months.’

‘Unless . . . you don’t want that . . .’

Watching Draco’s expression, Harry swallowed around the lump in his throat. Unless Harry wanted to admit that he was in love with Draco.

‘What do you want to tell the papers?’ Draco asked.

‘Let them say whatever they want.’

#

And the Prophet did. All sorts of speculation, but none of it came close to the truth.

The Medi-witch and St Mungo's never came forward with what she knew, and of course no one thought to ask her or the children Harry had visited that day _why_ Harry had visited them. Harry visiting sick children in a hospital was just a Harry Potter thing to do that though it had made it into the paper that Draco worked there hadn’t been a thought to mention.

As Harry counted down the days, dreading the moment he’d have no other choice but to leave Harry thought back to when Hermione had warned him about this. She was right; it was the perfect revenge. 

Two years. It had been two years, and the bet was over. They were over. 

And Harry didn’t want to leave. 

Ron was right as well. That Harry was willing to break his own heart to win a bet against _Malfoy_ probably said more than Harry wanted to admit on why he’d taken the ridiculous bet, to begin with.

There had been a passion in him for Malfoy even then. One fueled by hatred, but a passion none the less.

Draco had become his home. 

But it wasn’t a home Harry felt he could trust. He needed time away from Draco to see if what he felt was real, so in the end leaving was the only option. What if having a home was all that he’d really loved about Draco? 

Merely getting on well with someone wasn’t love. Even if he’d never expected to get along with Draco, there was no other way Harry could describe their relationship.

Before it might have been an all-consuming hatred but that wasn’t how this reversal felt to him then. Harry enjoyed his presence at the table as they talked about their days and in his bed before during and after they came together. But as Harry had told Ron, anyone could fill that role.

There were also far more people willing to fill that role than Harry had realised. People Harry hadn’t thought to consider before, but he could—consider them.

It was a Tuesday. Such a random day in the middle of the week for them to have to end it all. 

Harry and Draco had work, and they’d see each other once they got home to have one last dinner together. To discuss the details of the bet. Draco hadn’t mentioned a word about it, and neither did Harry. Nothing was planned. As Harry entered the house, a part of him hoped that everything would go the same as it had gone for the last few months. 

They could forget about the bet and simply move on with their lives: together. If they just didn’t talk about it, then Harry wouldn’t have to leave.

Or maybe, Draco wouldn’t have to leave. They’d never discussed the particulars of what would happen at this part.

But once Harry got through the door, he knew all hope was lost. It was quiet, but the dining room table had flowers on it. It marked their special occasion. They’d been married for two years. Dinner wouldn’t be for another hour, so Harry headed up the stairs to bathe and change. Draco would not appreciate him coming to their last dinner together dirty and smelling from another day on the job.

Even though Draco’s job wasn’t half as dirty as Harry’s, he always freshened up before dinner. 

Entering their bedroom, Harry could smell Draco all around him. His stomach twisted in knots thinking about how it would be the last time he’d come home to that scent. These were his last moments calling this bedroom his. His last time taking a bath in his tub. The last time he’d see Draco’s clothes hanging up next to his own. He pulled one of Draco’s black jumpers out of the wardrobe and brought it to his face. 

He was going to miss that smell, and how it clung even to his own clothes as he went about his day. How at odd moments he’d catch of hint of Draco on him, even though he was far away.

#

Draco was at the foot of the stairs headed up as Harry headed down for dinner.

‘I was just coming to see if—’ Draco stopped and waited for Harry to join him. ‘If you were ready.’

He looked as nervous as Harry felt. 

‘I’m ready,’ Harry said. They walked to the table not touching each other. Every move Harry made was too thought out. As they made their way to the table, Harry knew there’d be no ignoring it. Even if the words never came out, and Harry couldn’t force them to, they were wrapped around them, going back and forth with every look and gesture.

They ate in silence until Draco couldn’t take it anymore and broke it.

Draco’s eyes met his asking _are you leaving me?_ while he asked, ‘How was your day?’

‘Boring,’ Harry said, looking away. ‘I got my first case, but it’s not much. It’ll be boring for a while. As busy as they are they still don’t trust Aurors fresh out of training with chasing down Dark Wizards. You?’

‘You should come by and see.’

Harry opened his mouth but then let it fall closed again.

‘So,’ Draco said, wiping the corners of his mouth and then taking a shaky breath. ‘It’s been two years, so the bet is over, and—there is really just one question, I suppose.’

Harry nodded, waiting for him to continue. He couldn’t bring himself to speak, so he had to leave it up to Draco.

‘So,’ Draco started, watching Harry carefully. ‘Do you love me?’

He wanted to say something, but no words came out. 

Yes, yes, of course, he did, but he still couldn’t bring himself to say the words. 

Instead he tried to form other words. Sympathetic words that didn’t sound too much like a lie. Harsh words so that they’d fight, and he could leave angry and never look back. Funny words so that they could laugh together and leave each other as friends. So then he could come back the next day, they could see each other again, so they didn’t have to lose each other completely.

Draco closed his eyes and nodded. ‘You win then.’ He stood up and backed away from the table. ‘Like always: you win.’

Then he Disapparated.


	14. The Simplest Things in the World

‘I see you haven’t signed the divorce papers,’ Hermione said as she looked down at him, a hand on her hip and a scowl on her face.

The papers sat on the floor next to the window where they’d fallen after he’d opened the package. He’d spend a lot of time with them. He glared at them. Got drunk and cursed at them. Threw things at them—his aim had gotten bad with lack of use—but not touched them, and certainly hadn’t read or signed them. 

‘You're being ridiculous,’ Hermione said, looking at Ron for support who just shook his head and gave a small shrug. ‘Look at you! You’re a mess. Just go tell him the _truth_.’

Harry couldn’t deny any of it; he was a mess. The room around him attested to it. He hardly left his flat, and when he did, he wasn’t very productive. Luckily being a new Auror wasn’t as much of a challenge for Harry as the training had been.

‘What am I supposed to say, Hermione? I lied to win the bet?’ Harry collapsed back against his mattress. ‘It doesn’t matter anyway; he doesn’t love me. It won’t change anything!’

Ron looked away and rolled his eyes.

‘Oh, you have a better idea, Ron? You called Hermione a tramp for going on a date with Krum—you think that’ll work with Draco?’

‘Hey,’ Hermione said, her voice catching, ‘don’t take this out on us! We were teenagers then and … and this isn't the same at all. We didn’t do this, Harry. We’re just trying to help, and letting you sit and drink yourself to death is hardly helpful. 

Feeling like a shit, Harry sat up again. ‘I’m sorry—I’m just tired and have a headache.’

‘I do have a better idea,’ Ron said, ‘better than telling him the truth even. You should have told him the truth before, but now it’s a bit too late and more likely to set him off then have him falling into your arms.’

‘And?’ Harry looked at Ron expectantly.

‘Ask him out. Try to win him over. If you must make it all weird like the two of you, seem to be unable to function near each other without doing, having the divorce papers be your bargaining chip. Say you’ll only sign them if he agrees to go on a date with you.’

Hermione was smiling at Ron, but Harry just groaned and fell back again.

‘Either way, mate. You have to get up. Our engagement party is tonight and since you’ve been such a shit friend recently. I’m not about to forgive you if you miss it or show up drunk.’ 

Harry snorted—it was the closest he’d come to laughing since he’d left home. 

‘That’s tonight? Isn’t that a little fast? You just asked her to marry you—’

‘Harry,’ Hermione said, sharing a look with Ron, which they both turned back to Harry. ‘I seem to recall yours being much more, shall we say, sudden.’

He really couldn’t argue with that.

#

Harry was surprised to see Ginny at the Burrow for Ron and Hermione’s engagement party, and of course, he shouldn't have been surprised to see her there. It was the off season; this was her family.

Ginny smiled when she saw him and kissed his cheek. ‘So I hear you won the bet?’

Harry swallowed to stop his throat from closing up. He didn’t need to cry in front of her. That would just make everything worse. 

So instead he nodded and asked, ‘Where’s Mark?’

‘Oh,’ Ginny said with a laugh as they made their way to the kitchen. ‘We broke up.’

‘But you were engaged? You were so happy?’ It has seemed they were so happy, but that had been at the beginning of their relationship. They’d hardly known each other. 

‘Were we?’ She gave Harry an amused smile as they entered the kitchen.

Mrs Weasley stopped cooking to give Harry a hug and then was gone again, busy as always. Charlie and Bill nodded to Harry and hugged Ginny while she was on her way passed them to get Harry and her each a beer. 

After the greetings were out of the way, and they’d both had a drink, Ginny picked back up the conversation they’d been having. ‘Mark and my relationship caused too much tension, and we rushed into too quickly trying to prove the world wrong about us. I feel much more like myself since we’ve broken up actually.’

Harry hadn’t paid too much attention to what all had been said about them. He’d tried to avoid the rumours as much as possible.

‘Sounds a lot like our relationship,’ Harry said. ‘You were never allowed to be just you around me either.’

‘I was always myself around you, Harry.’ Ginny squeezed his arm.

Harry coughed, then taking a drink changed the subject. ‘You’re an official starter for the Holyhead Harpies, so the newspaper tells me.’

Ginny nodded and smiled. ‘Everyone always thought you’d be the one to go pro. Are you enjoying being an Auror?’

‘It’s alright. Apparently, the war wasn’t proof enough to put me on any real cases, but I kind of like that. Everyone has to go through the grunt work before they get to be part of the more interesting cases, and it makes me a tad bit less interesting to the newspapers.’

They were quiet for the moment, and suddenly Harry realised that they were very much alone. Mrs Weasley had been in the kitchen just a minute before, hadn’t she?

‘So,’ Ginny said, moving closer. ‘You’re single. I’m single, and I hear you have a flat sans any nosy family members to pop in on you.’

‘I’m still married.’ Harry showed her his hand still wearing his ring as if that proved he hadn’t signed the papers yet. Either way, it showed he wasn’t ready to move on.

But she laughed, moving in closer still. ‘I was just suggesting a night of fun, Harry, not that we get married. A night we both have been waiting a long time for.’

‘I’m not a virgin anymore.’

This only caused her to laugh harder. ‘I haven’t been a virgin since I was fifteen; I meant _us_.’

Harry was quiet as the implications of what he’d just said caught up to both of them, and her face lost all it’s humour. 

‘ _He_ was your first?’ Ginny searched his face and then brushed the discomfort out of the air. ‘Doesn’t matter—I’d still be your first woman.’

‘Got that, too,’ Harry said, smiling at the memory.

‘Right, what was it he called her? Daisy, yes. Look, Harry. I might never understand this thing you have with Malfoy, but I don’t need to. The past is the past, and it’s over, yes? We’re still young and have plenty of time. I’m just suggesting we finish what we started. It doesn’t have to lead somewhere.’

‘I like things that lead somewhere, Ginny.’ Harry finished off his beer stepped away from her toward the kitchen door. ‘We’re back at the same wall: we want different things. Except, this time, it’s not you that I don’t want it to be over with anymore.’

#

Ron had been working the night shift when _Incendio_ ’s owner called the Aurors in have them get Draco. Then partly as a favour to Harry, and partly because his partner for the night groaned and said, 'We aren't bloody Medi-Wizards nor are we the Night Bus!' Ron called Harry to deal with it. 

'Wear your robes,' Ron had said, 'and I'll meet you there. We don't have to write a report up, the owner isn't pushing anything, he just doesn't want to get charged and all. But, just in case, someone on duty should be there.' 

Not that it being Ron wouldn't have been looked at as any less calling in a favour than Harry going alone if anyone had known about Harry and Draco’s past relationship. But they didn’t, so at most it’d look like Ron simply not wanting to go alone and Ron’s partner being lazy.

As first years out of training, they got the grunt work. Harry let go of the day shift after he’d let go of Draco, giving it to someone who had someone to go home to. Which left him with weekends, night shifts and drunkards, so Harry knew Jim from the times he’d called the Aurors before. He didn't want any trouble and would call family and friends before the Aurors if he knew their Floo address. Only he'd never had cause to know Harry's. He wasn’t known as Draco’s family, and it changed a few months ago. Only Ron and Hermione knew it. They called him but rarely came by his flat. Harry hadn't had a reason to invite anyone over, and could be found either at work or at theirs if he wasn't asleep or wanting to be left alone.

Harry was quick to change and Apparated outside the club where Ron was waiting for him.

Ron grimaced when he saw Harry, and Harry could tell he was trying to gauge how Harry was taking this, but Harry let nothing show in his expression. They both knew Harry was hurting, that he was angry at Draco for being there, and would find a way to make himself numb to it all before the night was over.

'Let's get this over with.' Harry lead the way, and the crowd parted for them. People were dancing and close to fucking everywhere—on the sofas, against the walls, and on the disgusting floor—but Harry didn't look at any of them. He could only imagine the horrified look on Ron's face. 

Jim made eye contact with Harry and then nodded over to a far corner. 

As Harry approached, he saw that no one had attempted to pick Draco up off the floor, and although he wasn't completely out, he wasn't there enough to know what was going on around him. Jim probably didn't want to be accused of anything by touching him in the state he was in. 

Draco could be dramatic sometimes. 

Draco was half-naked, and Harry had no idea where his robes were. So Harry unclasped his cloak and wrapped it around Draco as he got him to his feet. He was unsteady, but he could stand. He wouldn't be able to walk very far, though.

Looking back towards the bar, he saw Ron talking with Jim and then he looked at Harry and nodded him on. At that Harry Apparated Draco to outside Draco’s flat. 

They never sold the house, but neither of them took it either. 

Harry packed his things that night after Draco left and went to stay with Ron and Hermione before he found a place to stay. It didn’t take long as he didn’t have much, and he didn’t give a fuck where he stayed.

It had been a while, and Harry had only been there once, but he landed just outside his door. Draco had no idea that Harry had ever even seen the place. Harry had just wanted to check up on him. Hermione called it concern; Ron called it stalking.

Draco made a sound as though he was close to throwing up. Harry was glad they could avoid the lobby. Even if most of his neighbors were was asleep, he didn't want to risk running into anyone. He wondered how often Draco stumbled through it in close to the same state he was in then. 

Taking a deep breath, Harry pulled his keys out of Draco pocket and found the one to his flat. He helped Draco through the door and to the nearest toilet. 

Draco was beside the toilet vomiting within seconds. After a few minutes he seemed to be falling asleep, so Harry pulled him up again but wasn't sure where to take him. Glancing in the guest bedroom, Harry saw the bed was unmade with the sheets and blanket tangled on top of it. He probably slept there as it was closer to where he obviously vomited all over himself every night, but the sheets needed to be cleaned. 

Everything in the flat needed to be cleaned. 

The flat was set up perfectly for roommates. Both bedrooms had a bathroom, but one bathroom had a door to the living room as well as to the bedroom. Upon entering the bathroom off the living room, Harry could tell Draco was using it often. There was old puke dried to the side of the tub. He must come in there at night, and then use the other one when he was sober in the day time. Draco hated things being a mess. 

It was one of the few things they used to fight about: Harry not cleaning up after himself.

He led Draco back to the living room and laid him on the sofa instead.

Curious, Harry peeked in the other bedroom. His breath caught at the sight of one of his jumper laying on the bed. He must have forgotten it when he’d packed. Maybe it’d been in the laundry. When Harry had thrown opened his trunk and shoved all of his clothes in it, he’d been in a haze.

Harry never had many things. He didn't have nick nacks. Just his clothing, his school books, and his pictures. His schoolbooks were already in the trunk as he didn't look at them often. So after his clothes were in the trunk, Harry grabbed the two photo albums that had pictures of his friends and his parents, added them to the trunk and closed the lid.

 _You can keep the rest_ Harry had scrawled on a note and left for Draco to find on the shelf with the rest of their pictures and books.

Harry went into the room, picked up the jumper, and turning around saw that Draco had disassembled the rest of their photo albums, and the pictures covered the bedroom wall. 

From their wedding, of course, but there were more than that. More than Harry even remembered. Neither Harry or Draco took pictures themselves, but as their relationship was meant to stay a secret every picture of Draco at Weasley gathering came their way by owl. Draco had taken care of them. 

Seeing it all layout on the wall, Harry was startled to see how many there were. There was a picture from last Christmas at the Manor—not their horrible first one. Where Harry was staring at Draco as Draco helped open his sisters’ gifts. 

What Harry had meant was _everything_ else—the furniture, the sheets, the house itself—but he could see how Draco might have thought he meant the pictures. There were only a few pictures of Draco in his albums. All from fifth or sixth year. All Harry got from Colin during their sixth year when Harry was trying to figure out what Draco was up to. When going through them after Harry left, Ron raised his eyebrows at that. 

Apparently, Harry having those pictures was news to him. A secret between Harry and Colin as Harry never told Draco about them either.

Harry went to the kitchen to make some tea. He opened cupboard after cupboard, but all he found was junk food. There was trash everywhere, empty snack wrappers and take-out food containers. 

Everything about it seemed the antithesis of what he’d come to know as Draco.

He grabbed the counter to steady himself.

Taking a deep breath, Harry walked back into the living room. Draco was fast asleep on the couch. Harry didn't need to make tea anyway; he'd done his duty. He couldn't handle being there anymore, knowing he'd hit another memory if he hung around too long.

Another sign that his heart wasn’t the only one broken win that bet, so he left. 

Leaving didn't stop the memories from coming. 

Only they weren't the memories of them together that he'd been running from that came to him, but the ones after he'd left. The stories that came to him through gossip that people whispered about and sometimes said right to Harry’s face, knowing enough that Harry had some interest in news about Malfoy, but no knowing enough that _this_ news would hurt him.

Everyone knew what Draco was up to. 

Having sex with anyone who offered. 

Taking large amounts of dangerous potions.

Harry knew that the sex part wasn’t entirely true, though. Draco couldn’t do that, even now, without the chastity belt charm stopping him. Harry never signed the divorce papers. It was most likely the only reason Draco had been half-naked. Harry couldn’t let him move on yet; Harry hadn’t moved on yet. Harry couldn’t help but wonder if the sex clubs were some sort of test for him. _Maybe tonight would be the night that his pants would finally come off._ Harry, also, couldn’t help but wonder what Draco would if they ever did. If he would run out of there and never look back, or have sex with every willing person who passed by.

The potions weren't illegal. Only potions that hurt others were. You could hurt yourself all you wanted in the wizarding world as long as you weren't sneaking a potion to someone against their will, everything was legal. 

It was still looked down on, though. 

Especially for a Healer.

Just like the sex clubs. 

Harry knew when Draco started going because everyone had an opinion on it. He’d never been so bad that Jim had to call for help before, though. Harry needed a drink. He stopped to pick up a bottle of firewhiskey and then went back to his new flat.

There wasn’t much in it. No furniture. Harry hadn’t even bothered to buy a bed. Just a mattress that he left on the floor. He didn’t need a dresser; his trunk held all his things just like it had back at Hogwarts.

As empty as it was, Harry’s flat was just as trashed as Draco’s. Harry threw out his takeout containers but hadn’t got around to the empty glass bottles that were piling up next to his mattress.

Looking around, Harry opened the bottle and brought it his mouth, but didn’t take a drink.

#

There was perhaps nothing more creepy than a ghost answering the door in a large, quiet Manor at half one in the morning. 

‘Mother’s not in,’ Ara said as Harry stepped into the house.

‘Oh, she wasn’t expecting me.’ Harry looked around the entryway. ‘How did you open the door?’

Ara smiled and shook her head. ‘The house elf did.’

Harry looked around, again.

‘She went back to bed, of course.’

The door slowly closed behind Harry, who jumped when he heard it click shut.

‘Would you like to wait for her in the sitting room?’

‘I’d like to speak with you, actually,’ Harry said, stepping toward her. It was rather late at night, and though it was odd that Narcissa wasn’t home, Harry was more curious if ghosts simply had no sense of time.

Looking away, Ara said, ‘Oh, whatever for?’

‘Because, I think that you know Draco better than anyone else.’

Ara didn’t deny it and turned to face Harry again.

‘He’s … hurting—’

‘You left him.’

True. ‘It wasn’t real.’

‘Wasn’t it?’

Harry watched Ara float in front of him and thought that many things in Draco’s life seemed unreal.

‘What do you want from me?’ Ara asked.

‘I don’t know what to do. My friends said—they’re normally right about these things—they think that I need to do something big to show Draco that I’m sorry and that I messed up because he’ll never forgive me otherwise. The thing is I have no idea what that is. And the more time that passes, I feel the grander this _thing_ needs to be.’

‘Go home to him, Harry.’ Ara smiled her small, sad smile. ‘Go home to him and hold him.’

‘That seems a rather small effort.’ It had been all Harry thought about doing for a while then. All he’d wanted to do since he’d walked in that club and seen him almost passed out on the floor. Hold on to him and never let him go.

‘I have a question for you.’

‘Yes.’

‘Why do you seem so sad when you look at us?’

Harry didn’t ask her to clarify. Ara had caught him a few times looking at her and her sisters solemnly. 

‘Because you’re ghost,’ Harry said.

‘Are you sad when you see all ghost.’

‘No, but you’re so young, and you all died at the same time. It makes me wonder how, why, and what it must have been like for Draco growing up with sisters he outgrew, who he could never really play with. For Narcissa to…’

‘See her children crying but never be able to hold them,’ Ara finished for Harry. ‘Sometimes the simplest things in the world are all we need.


End file.
